From Unexpected Places
by rubyliss
Summary: When a photo of Kurt kissing Sam surfaces, Sam's parents want Kurt arrested.
1. Chapter 1

**Story:** From Unexpected Places

**By:** Ruby Lis

**Pairing:** Kurt/Sam, established but secret relationship, set after "Duets".

**Rating:** Mature-language, abuse, non-graphic violence, anti-gay slurs, attempted suicide

**Summary: **When a picture of Kurt kissing Sam surfaces, Sam's parents want Kurt arrested.

**Disclaimer: ** Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy. Kermit the Frog belongs to Jim Henson Productions. Taste the rainbow belongs to Skittles.

PART ONE

"Hey, Hummel, taste the rainbow!"

Kurt Hummel flinched as multi-colored slushies pelted him. He fumbled blindly for the restroom door until a hand pressed firmly on his back guiding him forward. He heard someone turn on the faucet. A moment later, he felt a wet paper towel wiping blueberry slushie from his face. He looked up and saw his rescuer. Sam Evans. Watching him with a grin that left Kurt breathless.

"My Kermit eyed guy is looking a little blue."

Kurt gave him a withering glance. "Do I look like a frog to you?"

Wordlessly, Sam scooped a handful of lime green slushie from Kurt's hair and plopped it in the sink. Kurt shook his hair, showering Sam in a colorful confetti of ice crystals. Sam backed away with a laugh, surrendering the sink to Kurt so he could rinse his hair.

"Meet me in the basement after Glee."

Kurt arched an eyebrow. "Steve McQueen may be at home in a basement, Alexander McQueen and I are not."

"Suit yourself. I can always ask Mercedes."

Kurt hmphed, momentarily offended at being dismissed so easily. He quickly resumed his usual cool demeanor. "Fine, I'll be there."

Sam hand him more paper towels. "Is Rachel singing the song you picked for her today?"

Kurt smiled coyly. "Actually, I had someone else in mind when I selected it."

Sam blushed but looked pleased. "Think she knows?"

"The only thing Rachel Berry knows-or cares to know-is that she will be singing Streisand."

"Mm. Missed a spot." Kurt shivered as Sam licked an icy trail of blueberry syrup from his throat.

"You are so-"

"-wicked?" Sam finished with a mischievous grin.

Kurt laughed, appreciating Sam's quick witted reference to his favorite musical. He fisted his hands into Sam's sweater and playfully tugged him closer for a kiss.

"C'mere, naughty boy."

With the water still running in the sink, neither of them heard the click of Jacob Ben Israel's camera.


	2. Chapter 2

PART TWO

Kurt took a deep breath and squared his shoulders before walking into Glee. It wasn't his fault that his clothing wasn't dry yet. It wasn't his fault he had gotten slushied twice in one day, ruining his back up outfit. And it certainly wasn't his fault that the only passable thing Miss Pillsbury could find in the school's charity closet was this.

Hideous. Green. Sweater.

Kurt flashed Sam a warning look when he walked in even though it was probably pointless. He wasn't fooled by the blonde's lazy smile or carefully contrived innocent expression.

"Ribbit."

Kurt pointedly ignored Sam as he stepped up to the back row to join Mercedes. Finn Hudson, coming in behind Kurt, did not.

"Dude, did you just croak at me?"

"What? No, man, it's cool. Just had a frog in my mouth."

Kurt sputtered on the sip of water he had just taken.

"I had a frog in my mouth once." Brittany added, much to Kurt's chagrin and Santana's disgust.

"I think you mean you had a frog in your throat." Quinn smiled sweetly as she looked from Sam to Kurt. "Something in your throat, too?" Kurt glared. Quinn didn't mind. She wasn't a stupid girl, after all. She saw the way Sam's eyes had followed Kurt during his jazz solo. And she knew Kurt had wanted to sing with him. Personally, she thought they would make a cute couple.

Will Schuester walked in, excited about this week's assignment. "So, this week you're all singing songs someone else has picked out for you. Let's shake things up a little. Get out of your comfort zone. Challenge yourselves." He motioned Kurt and Rachel to the front of the class. "First up, Rachel singing Kurt's selection."

Kurt carried the sheet music over to Brad while Rachel addressed the rest of the Glee members.

"I'll be singing 'Love Comes From Unexpected Places'—by Barbra Streisand."

Will's face fell. He had really expected more from these two.

"Rachel singing Streisand. Wow. What a challenge."

"Santana."

"Seriously, Mr. Schue." Kurt was surprised by Mercedes' objection. "Why do we have to listen to Rachel sing another Barbra song?"

"Because you haven't heard her sing under my direction." Kurt replied snippily.

He finished the final changes to the music for Brad then returned to his seat by Mercedes. Rachel was babbling about the greatness of Barbra Streisand. He rolled his eyes at her non-stop chatter.

"Rachel, dear, shut up and sing."

Rachel smiled warmly at Kurt. Ever since their duet he had been, well, not really less bitchy towards her but there was an underlying affection that softened the snark. He had called her "dear". And, Rachel's eyes sparkled as she took a breath for the first note, he had given  
her this—Barbra!

_Love comes from the most unexpected places_

Kurt stole a glance at Sam. Even in profile, he could see the slight flush of color on his cheeks and a quiet, secretive smile playing across his lips.

_In someone's eyes you've never met_

_Who wants to get to know you_

_In someone's smile you can't forget_

_And if the music plays on in your mind_

_Take all the love that you can find_

_And if love takes you in_

_Take all the love that you can find_

_And hope it comes again_

This was going so well! Rachel's instincts told her she should power through the next part, filling the room with sound. She caught Kurt's finger wag and slight head shake admonishing her not to change what they had practiced. It was an effort, but Rachel remembered what Kurt had said, this song was about control not volume.

Mr. Schue tensed, fully expecting Rachel to go diva on this part and start belting the notes. It was too bad. Up to this point, Rachel had captured the expressive, lyrical quality of the song in a way he didn't know she was capable of singing.

Will's mouth dropped open in surprise. She didn't do it. She held back. He looked over to Kurt who smiled and gave Rachel a slight nod of approval. Rachel let the last note fade. The effect was profound. Like dropping a pin in a perfectly quiet room.

"Damn, girl, you brought it."

Rachel grinned at Mercede's compliment and the sudden, sincere burst of applause that followed. She threw her arms around Kurt in an impulsive hug. He carefully disengaged himself and tugged the wrinkles out of his sweater.

"Oh, Kurt, I'm so sorry! Is it a McQueen or Jacobs?" Rachel was pleased to show Kurt that yes, she, too, could learn who the fashionable designers were. Although, she had no idea why Sam doubled over laughing at her comment. Or why Kurt was eyeing her that way. "What?"

"I think it's a Jim Henson." Sam managed to gasp out between laughs.

Jacob stood in the doorway watching Rachel Berry press herself against Kurt Hummel. Disgusting. He should be the one getting that hug. He should be the one getting the kiss on the cheek. But no, she had laughed at him. His angel of music had laughed. Not that he blamed her. It was Hummel's fault. Kurt with the cutting comments who had flayed his self-esteem with one quick witted barb about his clothing. In front of Rachel Berry. Well, he'd see what Rachel thought of Kurt once he broke his story.

**A/N:** **Love Comes From Unexpected Places **written by Kim Carnes and Dave Ellingson, sung by Barbra Streisand.


	3. Chapter 3

PART THREE

Kurt Hummel stood in the basement gaping. Maybe he didn't believe in God, but if there was ever a heaven that could bring him to his knees, he was standing in front of it right now. For years, he had heard the rumors. Even in middle school there had been whispers, speculation. Some said it never existed. Others said if it had been real once, everything would be dust by now. But here it was, his own personal El Dorado laid open before him in a lush buffet of sequined dresses and feather boas.

McKinley High's costume archives.

Sam broke into a smug grin. He had spent long, sweaty hours replacing light bulbs, clearing away cobwebs, sweeping the dust covered concrete floor. Every hour was worth this one moment of Kurt turning shining eyes to his. "Happy?"

"Orgasmic with joy!" Kurt exhaled breathlessly.

Sam nuzzled his neck. "Who has the best boyfriend in the world? Say it. Say it!" He tickled Kurt's sides sending him into a very undignified giggling fit.

"I do." Kurt danced into the room and spun around, laughing. "Oh, I most definitely do!"

Sam followed as Kurt explored the aisles, enjoying the delighted gasps and startled exclamations he made as something new caught his eye. They rounded a corner and Kurt made a strangled sound. Fedoras and matching vests.

"I think they did 'Guys and Dolls' once."

"Uh-huh." Kurt answered as he set one of the hats on his head and grabbed two more in his hands. He looked at Sam expectantly. "If there's not a mirror down here, I may have to break up with you."

"Would I disappoint?" He nudged Kurt towards a cleared space in the middle of the room while he grabbed the matching vests. "Coach Beiste wants to make this into a weight room. That way she won't have to fight Sue and the Cheerios for the equipment."

He met up with Kurt, busy admiring himself and his newly acquired fedora in the full length mirror. "It could take weeks—months even—to go through all of this."

"Coach said I could have someone help. Think Finn would-?"

"I think not!" Kurt playfully slapped him, pretending to be appalled at the idea.

Sam helped Kurt slip into a vest. "She said I could sell the costumes and keep the money." Sam rested his hands on Kurt's shoulders, studying their reflections. "Anything I make, I want you to have."

Kurt turned around in surprise.

"Your dad's medicine costs a lot, Kermie." Kurt opened his mouth to protest the frog reference but Sam laid a finger on his lips to silence him. "You've been selling your Marc Jacobs on eBay." Kurt flushed, embarrassed. "You really think I didn't know?" Sam kissed him. "Let me do this for you."

Kurt closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, Sam noticed the obstinate look in his eyes and the determined set of his chin. Kurt laid a palm against Sam's cheek.

"My dad would have loved you."

"Your dad will love me. Once he's back to being himself. He just needs more time to recover."

Kurt smiled sadly, unconvinced.

"But-?" Sam prompted.

Kurt slid his fingers to Sam's turtleneck and tugged the material down. Neither of them needed to look in the mirror to see the fingerprint shaped bruises on his neck.

"You have to get away from your dad." Kurt wrapped his arm around his boyfriend's waist and laid his head on Sam's shoulder. " Use the money for court, Sam. You can file a request for emancipation."

"I can't get emancipated unless I prove I can support myself. I can't support myself without a job." Sam looked around the room. "A real job." He leaned down to kiss Kurt again. "Take the money." Sam deepened his kiss. "Say yes." His hands slid around Kurt's waist, pulling him closer. "Say it."

"...yes..."


	4. Chapter 4

Part Four

McKinley Manwhore.

Jacob chuckled to himself. Perfect. He sat in front of the computer adding the final touches to his expose for the McKinley Star. Now that he had a title and the article had been edited and proofread, he just needed to finish the photo. Jacob glanced over at the untouched original. No one needed to see Sam Evans' fingers wrapped in Kurt's hair, holding Kurt to him. With a bit of cropping and a bit of Photoshop, no one would. A few mouse clicks later, Jacob was done. He dragged the photo into place above the title and admired his work for a long moment. Kurt Hummel grabbing another student and forcing him into a liplock. That's what everyone would see. That's what Rachel would see. He pressed send.

* * *

It was a beautiful photo. The tilt of Sam's chin, the curve of his neck; eyes closed as he gave himself over to Kurt's lips. A rainbow of ice crystals like melted jewels scattered across their hair. If circumstances were different, Kurt would have printed it out and put it in a frame next to his bed. Instead, he deleted the photo from his dad's e-mail before Burt Hummel ever saw it. Next, he checked the school's website. As expected, the online version of the McKinley Star was up. Kurt couldn't very well delete the website, but with a few keystrokes, the site was blocked.

His phone rang. Mercedes. Again. Kurt waited until the ringing stopped then picked up the phone and tapped out a quick text. He had to warn Sam. He waited, holding his breath, until Sam answered.

* * *

Two hours of working on the room for Coach Beiste and another half hour of physical therapy left Sam aching and exhausted. He came home, did his homework, ate, showered and quickly dropped off to sleep. He had meant to send a quick goodnight text to Kurt but dozed off, phone in hand.

He woke when the phone started vibrating against his cheek. He glanced at the texted image—two notes—b sharp and b flat. Sam frowned, wondering why Kurt would be texting him in their secret code. He glanced at the clock. What could have happened in a few hours? B sharp was obvious, "be careful." B flat, "deny the relationship." He scrolled through looking for a b natural, the "all clear" signal. There wasn't one.

Sam didn't know how serious the situation was or how much time he had to act, so he hurried through their prearranged plan. First, he texted Kurt a bass clef—"love you"-before he turned off his phone, removed the sim card and hid it in a cd case. He barely had time to slide the cd into his backpack when his dad appeared.

Paul Evans stood in the doorway, belt doubled up in his hand. He slapped the leather against his palm twice. "Basement, now." As they walked through the kitchen, Sam saw his little sister, Sarah, cornered by their mom. He heard a sharp slap and Sarah's cry of pain. He bit his lip and kept walking. He knew from experience that interfering would only make things worse for both of them.

Sam padded barefoot down the concrete stairs and into the basement, his dad's heavier footsteps close behind. He knew that asking what he had done wrong would be seen as defiance. So, wordlessly, Sam undressed. He knew the routine. He folded his pajamas and set them to one side, standing before his dad in only his underwear. Paul Evans nodded once. Sam grabbed the metal bar suspended from the ceiling and braced himself. The first blow came low across the back of his knees. He stumbled.

"A man stands on his own two feet!"

Sam adjusted his grip and braced again. The second blow was easier, a glancing strike on his butt. The third time, the metal tipped leather bit into his injured shoulder and Sam cried out at the sudden pain that jolted him.

"-for if thou strike him with the rod, he shall not die. Thou shalt beat him with the rod, and deliver his soul from hell."

Sam fought to stay on his feet, to stay awake but each crack of the belt against his skin brought him closer to blacking out from pain. At some point, he must have lost the fight. He opened his eyes and was face down on the basement floor.

"If his body cannot be redeemed in this life, his soul must be salvaged for the next."

Sam's breath caught in his throat. No. He staggered to his feet and saw his dad talking with several of the elders from church. After a few moments of quiet debate, they approached him. Sam took a step back but his dad and the rest of the men grabbed him, pulling and dragging him up the basement stairs, through the mudroom and outside to the river. The cool November night chilled him before his feet ever touched the frigid water.

His arms were grabbed first and held fast. Then his legs. He was carried, struggling, down the riverbank. Someone grabbed his shoulders and pulled him under backwards. Sam broke through to the surface, choking on the water he swallowed.

He had a moment to catch his breath while the elders spoke of the purity of the water cleansing the evil from his soul. Then his dad's hand was at his throat, forcing him under again. He thought of Kurt. The way his hazel eyes had glowed when he opened the door to the costume room. The throatiness his voice when he said "jazz" during his solo duet. So damn sexy.

Shivering, lungs burning, Sam was vaguely aware of being lifted from the water and dropped onto the grass. He rolled onto his back with a moan. He had no idea how much time had passed. His dad knelt beside him and Sam saw the tears in his eyes. Paul Evans smoothed his son's bangs out of his eyes and kissed his temple.

"I wouldn't do this if I didn't love you."

He watched the other men walk his dad back to the house, talking in low voices, reassuring his dad that, yes, he had done what was best for his son.

Sam lay gasping on the muddy bank, cold, aching, muscles starting to cramp. Numbly, he listened to the crickets and frogs. Frogs. In spite of the pain, Sam smiled.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews!

From the previous chapter, "orgasmic with joy" was supplied by a friend.

In response to **LizaGirl's** review, I explain what's going on with Burt later.

"**-****for if thou strike him with the rod…"**-Proverbs 23:13-14


	5. Chapter 5

Part Five

Initially, Kurt was relieved to be summoned to Miss Pillsbury's office instead of Principal Figgins'. However, after five minutes of wordlessly smiling politely at each other, he was having second thoughts.

"You asked to see me, Miss Pillsbury?"

"Yes, yes, I did. I wanted to see you about the—uh—about you—that is-"

"About the photo?" Kurt suggested.

"Right. Well, now, the thing is—you can't just go around kissing boys—uhm—random boys—random anybody." She laughed nervously. "Obviously." Emma swallowed hard as she picked up a pamphlet. "Now then, there—uh—isn't really anything that specifically addresses this—ah—situation."

"Never a Hallmark card when you need one."

"No, I suppose not." Miss Pillsbury slid the pamphlet over to Kurt. "Anyway, I put together a handout that –uh—should cover everything."

Kurt's eyes widened . The pamphlet was titled "Don't touch-a touch-a touch me". Below it were cartoons of Riff Raff and Rocky.

"...oh, dear lord..."

Emma smiled brightly. "See? It's a Rocky Horror Picture Show theme." She busied straightening her desk while she chatted away. "I know how much you kids enjoyed doing the show and it's important to give you material you can relate to."

"Uh-huh." Kurt's eyes wandered across Miss Pillsbury's antiseptic wipes, anti-bacterial lotions and anti-fungal sprays and he idly wondered if she might have a gallon of brain bleach behind her desk he could borrow.

"And-"

"There's more?"

Emma reached down and brought out Riff Raff and Rocky dolls. "I know I probably should have used Frank but, well, I didn't want to confuse the homosexuality issue with the transvestite issue."

"Riiiiight."

Emma frowned, considering. "Unless that's something we need to discuss?"

"NO! I don't think I'm ready to have that discussion." Not in this lifetime or any other Kurt added silently to himself.

"Oh, okay." She settled her hands on her desk, pleased that her session with Kurt was going so well. "Now then, the dolls are-uhm-anatomically correct. So, I thought we could review good touches and bad touches. What do you think?"

What he thought was he should hit the janitor's closet and find that damn bleach. Instead, Kurt slid the pamphlet into his messenger bag and eased out of the chair.

"Maybe I should study this first and come back if I have any questions."

"Oh, okay. And, Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"Riff Raff and Rocky will be here whenever you're ready."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

* * *

Azimio and Karofsky, slushies in hand, were on a direct course for Kurt. Sam quickly intercepted them, grabbed a slushie from Karofsky and continued towards Kurt, yelling over his shoulder, "He's mine!" Sam threw the slushie, catching Kurt full in the face. "Maybe that will wash some of the gay off of you, freak!".

"Awesome!" Karofsky gave Sam a friendly punch to the shoulder.

"French this, homo!" Azimio flung his slushie on top of Sam's.

Kurt blinked away enough of the sticky liquid to see Azimio and Karofsky, arms over Sam's shoulders, walk away. A quick glance at the hall and he counted at least a dozen students who had witnessed the scene. Perfect. Kurt hid his face as he ducked into the restroom. If anyone saw him smiling, it would ruin Sam's brilliant performance.

* * *

Det. Pulaski wasn't happy about being pulled off his case. But apparently this Paul Evans guy was buddy-buddy with the captain. So, the captain spoke to the lieutenant, the lieutenant spoke to the sergeant and here Pulaski was, cooling his heels in the cramped Speech Therapy room of McKinley High. He had a paper copy of the McKinley Star in front of him. He'd gone over the article and decided to start with this guy. Not only was he a witness but also a potential victim. The simple open and shut case had quickly become more complicated.

"That's F-i-n-n?"

"Yeah."

"I'm investigating an allegation of inappropriate contact between two students. You know what I'm referring to?"

"Is this about me touching Rachel's boobs?"

Det. Pulaski raised an eyebrow. "No." He slid the Star over to Finn's side of the table. "You recognize anybody in that photo?"

"Yeah, it's Sam and Kurt."

The detective noted Finn's frown, obviously unhappy about the photo. Interesting.

"That would be Sam Evans and Kurt Hummel?"

"Yeah."

Det. Pulaski opened his legal pad and read from his notes. "If I did to a girl what you did to me, I'd be arrested." The detective glanced at Finn. "You remember saying that?" Finn reddened. "You remember who you said that to?"

"Kurt."

"Kurt Hummel?"

"Yeah."

"The same Kurt Hummel in this photo?"

Finn looked away and nodded.

"What was that about?"

Finn fidgeted with his watch band. "I don't remember."

"Weren't you warning Kurt to stay away from Sam Evans?"

Finn shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "It wasn't like that."

"Has Kurt Hummel ever touched you on your penis above or below your clothing?"

"Dude!"

"Answer the question, Finn."

"No, of course not!"

"Has he ever made lewd, obscene or sexually suggestive comments to you, about you or in your presence?"

Finn's jaw tightened. "No."

Det. Pulaski watched as Finn crossed his arms and slumped in the chair. "Has he ever said anything that made you uncomfortable?"

"He kind of said I should give up girls. But it was a joke. Sort of."

"How's your relationship with Burt Hummel?"

Finn flashed a lopsided smile, relieved at the change of subject. "Great! He's-he's kind of like a dad to me now."

"You wouldn't want to see him hurt?"

"What? No, of course not."

"You think this thing with Kurt would hurt him?"

Finn thought about it. "Yeah. A lot."

"Would you lie about Kurt to protect his dad?"

"Huh?"

"If Kurt said or did something you didn't like-something that made you uncomfortable-would you keep quiet about it to keep his dad from finding out? Would you keep quiet to keep his dad from getting hurt?"

"N-no."

"But you already did, didn't you? Isn't it true that Burt Hummel had no idea you were uncomfortable around Kurt until the argument in the basement?" Finn rubbed his hands nervously on his jeans.

"How do you know about-?"

Det. Pulaski leaned back in his chair, fixing Finn with a severe look. "We're going to start over and this time you're going to one, tell me everything that's been going on between you and Kurt Hummel and two, tell me the truth."

Finn swallowed nervously and nodded.

* * *

Det. Pulaski tapped his pen absently on the table as he thought through his line of questioning.

"There must have been dozens of boys in and out of the showers that day."

"Probably."

"So, Coach Beiste, what brought this particular conversation to your attention?"

"I saw it was Kurt Hummel."

"And that concerned you? That it was Kurt Hummel who approached Sam Evans as opposed to any of the other boys? Why?"

"I wasn't concerned, I just wanted to stop him."

"What did you think he was going to do?"

"They were discussing homework."

"But you wanted to stop him?"

"I mean stop him before he left the locker room. He was the kicker last year. I wanted to talk to him about rejoining the team."

"You said they were discussing homework?"

"Yes."

"How'd that conversation go?"

"I don't recall."

"You don't recall hearing a reference to Shawshank?"

After a moment, Coach Beiste answered quietly, "Yes, I heard it."

"Best as you can remember, who said it and in what context?"

"Kurt approached Sam."

"In the showers?"

"Yes, in the showers."

"And said, 'Don't worry, I'm not going to go all Shawshank on you.'"

"What did you take that to mean? Coach?"

"It's a reference to prison rape."

* * *

"You confronted Kurt about his behavior towards Finn Hudson?"

Rachel clasped her hands tightly in her lap, trying to answer the detective's questions calmly and clearly. "I wouldn't say confronted. Discussed."

"Fine, discussed. So Kurt's attentions to Finn were such that you felt you needed to address the situation. Would that be fair to say?"

"It was just a crush. He didn't mean anything by it."

"What did you think when Finn told Kurt to stay away from Sam?"

"What?"

"You didn't know?"

"I thought-we all thought-it was Kurt's idea not to sing with Sam."

* * *

"Are you freaking insane?"

Kurt sighed, knowing this moment was inevitable. "Stay out of it, Finn."

"This is how you back off of Sam? This is putting what the team needs before what you want?" Finn ran a hand through his hair. "It wouldn't kill you to be a little more like me."

Kurt arched an eyebrow. "Should I knock up Quinn, feel up Rachel and run over the mailman?"

Finn pulled Kurt aside. "There's a detective here. He's talking to everyone. You know what that's gonna do to Dad when he finds out?"

"Dad?" Kurt repeated icily. "Your dad is dead. I doubt he'll have much to say on the subject. My dad is my responsibility and I'm taking care of him."

Kurt turned away.

"You're doing a half-assed job of it."

He froze. Finn had no idea of how much he was doing for his dad. Insurance paperwork, doctor appointments, taking him to cardio rehab, paying unreimbursed bills, the mortgage, tracking his medicine, planning his meals. For a while, Kurt had even taken over the payroll and accounts for the garage. Kurt was doing his best not to be overwhelmed and Finn Hudson was criticizing his efforts. Kurt turned around to face him.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Kurt let his messenger bag slide to the floor. He threw his books to the side as he closed the distance between him and Finn. Before he knew it, his hands were on Finn, shoving as hard as he could. Finn stumbled back a step. "Dude, seriously?"

Kurt shoved again, using his foot to sweep Finn's feet and this time Finn did go down. Hard. Kurt gave him one last, disdainful look then walked back to get his books. Finn tackled him from behind, slamming him into the lockers. He yanked Kurt around to face him. One punch. Finn didn't give it any thought. Not until his fist connected with Kurt's face. Not until he looked down and saw the blood on his hand. Kurt's blood.

* * *

**A/N: ** I changed the quote from "Duets" slightly to fit the story better.


	6. Chapter 6

Part Six

Det. Pulaski watched from the wings as Kurt Hummel stood before an empty auditorium. Several days and dozens of interviews later, he still didn't know what to make of the young teen. It seemed for every student who hated him, there was another who adored him. The detective snagged a stool and sat, sipping his coffee while he waited. One thing everyone agreed on, Kurt Hummel could sing.

Kurt had escaped to the stage as soon as he could get away. He had overheard some of the other Glee members talking about Sam. About the marks on Sam's back. And he knew. Damn it, he knew but he didn't know what to do about it. Sam didn't want to go to foster care because there was no guarantee he could stay with his sister. Kurt understood. He understood but wished he didn't. Sometimes he felt he couldn't breathe because of everything he was holding in so tightly. But he could sing. He thought of Sam and Sam's dad. Kurt took a deep breath and everything he had been unable to say he poured into that first high, clear note, piercing the silence.

_How can people be so heartless?_

_How can people be so cruel?_

_Easy to be hard._

_Easy to be cold._

Det. Pulaski set his coffee down, awestruck. Damn, the kid was good. He toyed with the paper cup, turning over everything he knew so far about this case. He had read Sam Evans' initial statement but hadn't talked to him personally yet. There were still things in that first interview that bothered him.

How was he supposed to approach this kid? Kurt Hummel didn't have a chip on his shoulder, he had a goddamn log. Det. Pulaski had seen his attitude in Glee rehearsals. He could definitely be—prickly. On the other hand…

_How can people have no feelings? _

_How can they ignore their friends?_

_Easy to be hard._

_Easy to be cold._

_Easy to be proud._

_Easy to say no._

On the other hand, watching him onstage, unguarded, Det. Pulaski sensed he was seeing a rare moment of vulnerability in the teenager. The detective waited until the song ended then loudly cleared his throat. Kurt sniffled and wiped impatiently at the tears that threatened before he turned.

"Isn't that usually sung by a girl?"

Kurt stiffened as Det. Pulaski walked onto the stage.

"It's usually sung by anyone with the skill and vocal range to pull it off." He lifted his chin slightly. "Do you have a criticism of my performance?"

"Naw, it was pretty good."

Kurt pursed his lips. "Pretty good?" He took a seat at the piano, crossed his legs and folded his hands over his knees.

"I'm Det. Pulaski. I'd like to talk to you."

"You're not allowed to question me without my dad present."

"I didn't say question, I said talk. But I'll be happy to have a squad car run by the shop, pick up your dad and bring him down here. Is that what you want?"

Kurt tugged at his scarf, adjusting it. "No."

Det. Pulaski grabbed the stool and pulled it over to the piano. "You don't seem like a bad kid, Kurt. Maybe you just need some help reinforcing your boundaries. You're young. If this is an issue, you have time to turn it around before it becomes a real problem. Maybe we can get you into some counseling."

"You want me to go to counseling to cure the gay?"

The detective studied Kurt intently for a moment. "Is being gay something you want to cure?"

A sardonic smile played across Kurt's lips. "You don't cure fabulous, detective, you put it on the cover of Vogue."

Det. Pulaski smiled, amused. Good. He wanted Kurt to be comfortable talking to him. Maybe he could finally get the answers he needed to resolve this case.

"So, what's the deal with you and Sam?"

"Nothing."

"I've got a photograph, a couple dozen witnesses and a very pissed off dad that say otherwise."

"What did Sam say?" Det. Pulaski didn't answer. Kurt smirked, satisfied. He knew he could trust Sam not to say anything. "Do you plan on charging me for a crime when there's no victim?"

"I don't need Sam, I have Finn Hudson."

Kurt paled. "I never touched Finn."

Det. Pulaski studied Kurt's reaction with new interest. Apparently he'd hit a nerve with Finn. He pressed the issue, curious to see where this line of questioning would lead.

"You caused mental distress by creating a hostile environment for your own sexual gratification."

"I redecorated a room!"

Det. Pulaski shrugged. "I could lock you up for stalking. He's a minor. That makes it a felony. You're 16. You get waived to adult court and convicted? You're not gonna be roomies with Puckerman in juvie. You're gonna be in prison." He sipped his coffee. "Who takes care of your dad then?"

Kurt felt a wave of panic rise up and threaten to pull him under. If he was charged, he'd need an attorney and he already knew he'd never be able to get enough money together for legal fees. Prison. Even Puck hadn't been to prison. Finn was right. This was going to kill his dad when he found out. And Kurt was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to keep this from him much longer.

Det. Pulaski touched Kurt's arm and softened his tone. "Give me something to work with here, Kurt. Anything."

Kurt's eyes met his and the detective wondered if he'd pushed too hard. Sometimes it was fine line between getting a suspect to confess and pushing him into complete withdrawal.

"I can't." Kurt hesitated, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "It isn't safe." Kurt's phone alarm beeped. He glanced at it quickly, then frowned. Whatever he had been thinking, Kurt quickly resumed a cool, carefully neutral expression as he stood to leave. "It's my dad. He needs to take his medicine." Kurt picked up his messenger bag, noting that Det. Pulaski made no move to stop him. "Am I under arrest?"

The detective handed Kurt a business card. "Not yet. I'll be in touch."

Kurt nodded then hurried out of the auditorium before Det. Pulaski changed his mind.

* * *

**A/N: "Easy To Be Hard"**-from the musical Hair. If you've never heard this, there are clips on youtube of Cheryl Barnes singing it. Beautiful song.


	7. Chapter 7

Part Seven-**Revised**

While on the phone with his dad, Kurt hurried to make it to the choir room before Glee started. He hoped his voice didn't sound as shaky as he felt after talking to Det. Pulaski.

"Take your coumadin, Dad. Did you remember your nitroglycerin pills? Mm-hmm, I didn't think so. I put two tablets in your lunch box just in case." Kurt stopped short in front of his locker.

FAG.

He rolled his eyes at the spray painted anti-gay slur. He'd heard it enough by now that it didn't shock him as it had once. But the other was new. A crude cartoon making vulgar sexual comments about his dad's business. Kurt was furious. He quickly ended his phone call. Then he ripped the offending paper off of his locker, crumpled it up and shoved it into his pocket. He could throw it away when he got to Glee.

* * *

Principal Figgins slapped a copy of the McKinley Star down on his desk. "Sue, Will, we have a serious problem here. Samuel Evans has the right to walk the halls of McKinley High and not be subjected to random lingual assaults. His parents are threatening to sue!"

"Kurt has rights, too." Will picked up the Star from Figgins' desk and stared at the photo of Kurt and Sam kissing. "And this? This is an invasion of his right to privacy. What are you doing to about that?"

"Sue has assured me she has addressed that situation."

Sue turned to Will with a too friendly grin. "Absofreakinglutely. I pulled Jacob aside for a friendly chat and I'm confident there won't be a repeat of this debacle. You can thank me later, Will. Turns out the little fella can be quite accommodating with the right incentive. And incentive is Sue Sylvester's middle name."

"I thought it was Imogene."

"How do you possibly sleep at night knowing the oil in your hair could fuel a third world village for a year?"

"Nonetheless-", Figgins interrupted before Will could respond to Sue, "-I have decided to expel Kurt Hummel."

Sue Sylvester and Will Schue were on their feet, moving as one to object to Principal Figgins' decision.

"Over your dead body!"

"I am not expelling Kurt from Glee!"

"Look-" Will pleaded, "Maybe Kurt read more into Sam's friendship than was really there. He's a lonely teenager trying to make an emotional connection with someone. He made a mistake. We're teachers. It's our responsibility to give these kids a place where it's safe to make mistakes-to make bad choices-and teach them to make better ones."

"My decision is final."

"No decision is ever final except mine, Sue Sylvester's.", Sue said as she flipped open her cell phone, typed quickly then showed the results to Figgins whose eyes widened. He swallowed hard.

"Not expel, William, segregate."

Mr. Schue stood and started pacing. "How are we supposed to perform if two of our members can't be on stage at the same time?"

"Might I suggest some creative choreography? Take the Cheerios. Just last year they performed on stilts. Stilts, William!"

Will gripped the back of his chair, silently reminding himself to stay calm. "I'm not putting my kids on stilts."

"Stilts, human hamster balls, those cute little Shetland ponies. My point is you could learn a thing or two from Sue's mad choreography skills."

"Yes, Will, learn a thing or two besides which of your hair styling products has the greatest probability of spontaneously combusting."

"Sue, if Kurt wasn't in Cheerios, you wouldn't even be here."

"I resent that. I've grown rather fond of the little woodland warbler. And the 20% discount his dad's giving me on a full set of snow tires."

Figgins pounded his fist against the desk once. "So, it's settled. William, you will keep Kurt Hummel away from Sam Evans -", Figgins eyed Sue Sylvester nervously, "-or he will be expelled."

As Sue left Principal Figgins' office, she passed Jacob ben Israel in the hallway, curled in a fetal position around his camera and sobbing. She ground her heel in the already broken lens.

* * *

Finn Hudson retreated to the drums and took a seat , seeking an escape from Rachel's latest tirade. He picked up the sticks and worked off his irritation by tapping out a few experimental rhythms on the snare drum. Once Rachel found out he had asked Kurt not to sing with Sam, she wouldn't let it go. Nobody would.

"Finn Seamus Hudson!"

"Seamus?" Artie repeated under his breath, feeling a pang of sympathy for Finn having to live with that as a middle name.

Rachel Berry planted herself squarely in front of Finn. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that her boobs were eye level. Girl boobs. Nice ones. Finn smiled remembering how they had felt against his palms.

"Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"

Finn scowled. "You're not talking, you're yelling." He struck the cymbal once before throwing the drumsticks down in disgust. "You've all been yelling at me. I'm sick of it!" Finn stood up and brushed past Rachel.

Rachel, remembering one of Kurt's comments about her diva temper, took a breath and softened her tone. She rested a hand on Finn's arm. "We're just trying to understand. None of us had a problem with Kurt and Sam singing together. Why would you? "

"You weren't gettin' up in my business when Santana and I sang together." Mercedes added.

"That was-kinda hot.", Finn mumbled.

"You didn't tell Puck not to sing with Mr. Shue.", Artie pointed out.

"Mm-hmm.", Mercedes shot Finn a look. "Two _guys_? Singing 'Over the Rainbow'?"

Finn wondered if he looked as uncomfortable as he felt. "That was different."

"At least Azimio and Karofsky don't pretend be his friend."

Finn's head snapped up, stung by the comparison. "Hey, not fair! I never-"

Mercedes' eyes flashed with anger. "What? Never humiliated him? Never made him feel ashamed to be who he is? You called my boy out of his name in front of the whole school."

"Not cool." Mike Chang added softly. Normally, he preferred to stay in the background and listen to the sometimes passionate discussions that flowed around him in Glee. But he had seen Kurt's face that day in the cafeteria and he wasn't happy about it.

"I just-I didn't want to wait until-"

"Until you could talk to him in private?"

Finn flashed back to that moment in the cafeteria. During lunch. It had been crowded. And he hadn't exactly kept his voice down, even when Kurt had ducked his head and turned away, obviously upset. No. Finn had followed him and pressed the issue.

"You need to stop bein' a play brother and be a for real brother. Step up or step off, white boy. Besides-", Mercedes crossed her arms, radiating attitude, "-my bff is fine. How do you know Sam wasn't hitting on him?"

Brittany nodded. "Kurt kissing Sam is really sexy." she added dreamily.

Tina looked at Mike with a puzzled frown, "Sam's straight isn't he?" Mike shrugged and shook his head, not knowing-or caring to know-the sexual preferences of every Gleek.

Finn couldn't take it any more. He exploded. "God, do you even hear yourselves? Kurt kissing Sam is hot. Kurt and Sam are sexy." Finn took Rachel's hands in his and looked at her, pleading for her to understand where he was coming from. That he was trying to look out for Kurt. "Can you really see Kurt and Sam together?"

Rachel started to reply, thought better of it, then finally looked down and shook her head. "No.", she admitted softly.

"Letting him believe he has a chance at a relationship when he doesn't? Setting him up to get hurt?" Finn looked over at Mike. "That's what isn't cool."

Finn let go of Rachel and walked over to Mercedes. "Kurt is awesome. But get real. You know what this school is like." Finn felt guilty. She did know. Mercedes wanted someone special in her life as much as Kurt did. And she had had just as much luck.

"Nobody at McKinley is going to fall in love with Kurt Hummel!"

"I would appreciate you not discussing my life as if it's an episode of 'Blossom.'" Kurt snapped in reply as he strode across the room and took a seat in the back row.

Santana and Mr. Schue arrived moments later.

"Guys, take your seats. Let's get started." He glanced around the room quickly. "Anyone know where Quinn and Sam are?"

He was met with head shakes and blank looks.

"Okay, so, for our new number, the choreography is a bit more challenging and the vocals can be trickier than what we've done in the past. For the next few weeks, one group will work on music here in the choir room and the other group will work on moves in the auditorium. You know the drill. Guys, girls-split up. And Kurt?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed. "I know, I'm with the _boys_."

"Actually, I'd like you to rehearse with the girls this time."

Kurt's face lit up at Mr. Schuester's unexpected consideration. Finally, one bright spot in his day. He wiggled fingers with Mercedes, their quirky version of a happy dance. Santana laughed at his expression. "He's not doing it for you."

"Excuse me?"

"He's keeping you and Sam separated. " Kurt's face fell. "Figgins said he had to or you would be expelled."

Artie watched Kurt's reaction, concerned. "If Kurt and Sam can't be on the stage together, how are we going to perform at Regionals?"

"Forget Regionals, what about Nationals in New York?"

"What about New York, Mr. Schue?" Rachel asked, worriedly.

"We're all going to New York."

"Say what you really mean, Mr. Schue." Santana crossed her arms and looked around the room. "It's like with Artie and the bus last year." She glared at Kurt. "We all go or none of us go."

"Santana, that's enough."

"What? I'm not missing a trip to NYC because twinkletoes can't keep his tongue to himself."

Kurt raised his hand as he stood up. "Mr. Schue, if I may?"

Will nodded and gave the floor over to Kurt. Kurt took a deep breath and released it slowly as he looked into each face one by one. Artie, who had been downloading blueprints of Broadway theaters for a month, determined to sneak into the backstages of "Lion King", "Wicked" and a revival of "Oh! Calcutta!". Mercedes, who practically had the Fashion Walk of Fame and the Garment District memorized. Rachel, who had already threatened to make Kurt her accomplice in scouting out any and every open audition they could squeeze in.

And, finally, Finn. Kurt blinked back tears. Finn Hudson, who simply wanted to bury his father's ashes at Ground Zero. He was hurt and angry, yes, but he would never deny Finn an opportunity to come to terms with his dad's death and finally have closure.

"Nationals may be the only chance some of us have to get out of this cow town-even if it's only for a few days." Kurt gave a wan smile. "New York. I would never ask any of you to give that up because of me. Because of my-my moment of indulgent indiscretion." He stood a little taller and lifted his chin a little higher, firm in his decision. "I'll do whatever is in the best interest of the team." Kurt caught Finn's eyes. "Even if means staying behind. In Lima."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room, finally broken by Mr. Schue.

"Kurt-guys-we have months before we have to worry about Nationals. This will all blow over by then." He squeezed Kurt's shoulder. "And we'll _all_ be taking a bite out of The Big Apple."

Kurt smiled tightly. "Of course." He glanced longingly at Sam's still empty chair, wondering if their plan wasn't the best idea after all. "May I be excused now? I'm not feeling well."

Will frowned, concerned. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Mr. Schuester nodded. Kurt adjusted the strap on his messenger bag before walking out.

**A/N:** From what I could find, Finn's dad died in Desert Storm. However, I couldn't find a record of a national memorial for Desert Storm-only plaques. So for this story, I'm assuming Finn chooses the 9/11 Memorial as a way to honor his dad's memory.


	8. Chapter 8

Part Eight

Sam leaned heavily on the stairway railing as he pulled himself up the last few steps. Finally, he reached the upstairs dressing rooms behind the stage. His new sanctuary. It was the only place at McKinley High where he was fairly sure he wouldn't be found. He could feel the scabs on his back tearing open. He needed to change the bandages and see how bad it was. At home, Sarah helped him. At school, he managed to do what he could.

Sam walked in and stopped cold in the doorway.

Quinn was waiting for him.

"What's the matter? Frog got your tongue?" She checked the door behind him and, not seeing anyone else coming up the stairs, closed and locked it. "Hm, apparently not since I don't see Kurt around."

Sam set his gym bag down and gave her a wide eyed, innocent look. "No idea what you're talking about."

Quinn hopped up on the makeup table. "Kurt sits in the top row and only pretends to talk to Mercedes." She glanced over at Sam with a knowing smile. "He's really watching your ass."

"He watches my ass?" Sam checked out his butt in the mirror and smirked, pleased with this bit of information. Too late, he realized what he had done.

"I knew it!" Quinn laughed triumphantly. She pulled out her cell phone, ready to spread the news. Sam put his hand over hers. The look on his face sobered her.

"You can't tell anyone. Please."

Quinn eyed him thoughtfully as she considered his request. Kurt and Sam. This was the best gossip since-well, ever, really. "Give me one reason not to." She crossed her arms. "And it better be a good one."

Sam chewed his lip, wondering if he could trust her and if so, how much he was willing to tell.

"My dad saw the photo."

Quinn looked bored. "So?"

Sam eased out of his loose turtleneck sweater and draped it over a chair. He hissed in pain as he pulled off his tighter fitting t-shirt. He tossed the tee on top of his sweater. Quinn frowned when she saw the bandages. So, it was true. Puck had said something in Glee yesterday but Puck was always saying things.

Sam started at his side, pulling the tape off and unwinding the first layer of bandaging. Quinn walked over to help when she realized it hurt him to raise his arms beyond a certain point. Together, they worked until they reached the padding. Blood had seeped through in a couple of places. Awkwardly, wincing at the movement, Sam reached over and around to pull the last layer off.

Quinn gasped softly. His left shoulder was the worst. The metal tip had cut into the skin and left a deep bruise. Red welts criss crossed his back from shoulder to hip. The marks continued across his shoulders and down his sides where the belt had wrapped around towards the front.

"You have to tell someone."

Sam shrugged away and started pulling first aid supplies from his bag and setting them on the counter.

"No, I don't."

"Sam-"

"Look, I just need to get a job and get some money together. I can go to court. Get emancipated." He sighed heavily as if to convince himself. "I'll be fine."

"Wow, You really didn't think this through, did you?" Quinn went over to stand by his side and nudged him lightly. "Sweetie, you're in Ohio. The only way you can get emancipated is to enlist or get married. And your parents have to agree it."

Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How could you possibly know that?"

Quinn shrugged. "When you have someone else to think of-when you have a baby to think of-you learn to look into all of the options."

Sam gave her hand an affectionate squeeze.

"And now we're going to consider your options."

"We already worked out a plan."

Quinn laughed. "Your plan? Sucks. I'm making a new one."

"No."

Quinn put a hand on her hip and gave him a look, "Did I give you the impression you have a choice about this? You don't."

"I said no!" Angrily, Sam start shoving supplies back into his bag. He grabbed his t-shirt from the chair and started to shrug into it.

Quinn stopped him. "Look, fine, just let me take care of your back, okay?" Sam hesitated. Quinn pulled a chair out and turned it around. "Sit." Sam straddled the chair, folded his arms across the back and laid his head down. Quinn dabbed medicine on his back with light, sure strokes. He closed his eyes and drifted off as she worked, feeling the worst of the pain easing.

_ Meet me in the basement._

He wanders the aisles of the costume room, fingers brushing empty wire hangers as he passes bare clothing racks. The ping of metal on metal seems louder than it should be, overlapping and echoing. Some of the lights flicker and finally die. The room is cold, gray, dirty. He doesn't want Kurt to see this. There's something in the back of his mind he's trying to remember. Something important. He frowns, unable to grasp the elusive detail. He reaches the center of the room and sees his reflection in the mirror. He's wearing his pajamas. And that's when it hits him. He never told Kurt which basement to go to.

He turns to run and suddenly he's home, falling down his basement stairs and into the icy river below. He breaks through to the surface, gasping. And Sam realizes he's at church, sitting in a pile of leaves in the back yard. There's a vague impression of wings and glitter and monkeys. But Sam's eyes focus only on Kurt.

Kurt holds Sarah's hand as they turn to face Sam. Kurt smiles sadly as he takes the black witch's hat from her and walks towards where the elders are waiting. Sam makes a noise. Kurt's name, a plea to stop or a cry of despair, he isn't sure. But Kurt hesitates. Then he wags one finger at Sam. Shakes his head slightly. Warns Sam not to interfere as he turns to enter the church.

Somewhere in the background, he hears Coach Beiste's whistle. "_Wind sprints, Evans, now!"_

So Sam runs. He runs, heels kicking up a flurry of red and gold leaves, heart racing as he reaches for Kurt. His fingers brush the back of Kurt's shirt as he slips away. Sam lunges, grabs Kurt from behind and holds him fast against his chest. Kurt turns his head just enough that his cheek touches Sam's shoulder.

"Say it."

"…kermie…" Sam sighs against his skin, breathless and scared and so damn grateful that he was fast enough to save him.

When Kurt turns to whisper against his ear, it's his dad's voice he hears, cold and condemning.

"You are so wicked."

And Sam wonders if maybe his dad isn't right. Because there are rules in this game. And for the one he saved, there was one he couldn't. He hears Sarah calling for him from somewhere deep inside the church. The calling becomes crying. After the crying, will be a scream. Sam knows. Because it's always a scream that ends this nightmare. A scream he's heard since he was 8.

Sam jolted awake, Sarah's scream dying on his lips. He barely remembered that he's not alone before he shoved Quinn aside, stumbled for the bathroom and leaned over the toilet to throw up. He sank down between the wall and the tile floor, shaking. When he opened his eyes, Quinn's there, pressing damp paper towels to his forehead. She settled down beside him. She took him in her arms and rocked him, making soft shushing noises as she stroked his hair.

"What happened to you, Sam?"

He shook his head, leaning in to her warmth. "Not me. Someone else." Quinn handed him a bottle of water. After a sip, he added, "A long time ago."

Sam shook his head, not wanting to remember, not wanting to relive that night. Quinn put her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead to his and held Sam for a long moment.

"Is this why you don't want to tell anyone?"

"She died." Sam's voice cracked. "They sent her back and she died."

Quinn lifted his face and searched his eyes. "You can tell me."

Sam got up and left the bathroom. He glanced at the mirror. Quinn must have finished the bandaging while he was asleep. He shrugged into his t-shirt, then his turtleneck and gave her a nod of thanks. Sam looked at the door then back at Quinn. Finally, he straddled the chair again. Quinn pulled another chair over and sat down facing him.

"Gina Debrissi." Sam blushed. "She was almost perfect."

"Almost?"

"If she'd been a boy, she would have been perfect."

Quinn playfully slapped his knee.

A smile played across Sam's lips as he thought back to his grade school crush.

"Big brown eyes. Curly red hair. I'd tug on her curls and she let out this girly little squeak and run off." Sam squealed, imitating a little girl. Quinn chuckled. "Then she'd cross her arms over her chest and pout like she was really mad at me." Sam's face softened. "I'd walk over to apologize. And she'd say, 'Sam Evans, if you're really sorry, you have to be my boyfriend for the rest of the day.' And then, of course since I was her boyfriend, I'd have to kiss her cheek."

"Of course." Quinn agreed, amused.

Sam picked up the water and took another sip, gathering his thoughts. "One day, Gina came to school with a bruise on her face. Child protective services investigated. They ended up sending her to foster care."

He fell silent for a while. Quinn held his hand and quietly waited until Sam was ready to continue.

"Gina-Gina's story was like a fairytale to the rest of us. We'd talk about her at recess. Imagined what her life was like now. How happy she must be. She was the only person we knew who had left the church." Sam's eyes took on a far away look. "It was like-if she made it out maybe we could, too."

"Hope." Quinn murmured softly.

"Hope. Until she came back."

Quinn reached over and rubbed her thumb across Sam's cheek, brushing away his tears. He took a shaky breath and continued.

"After her mom and dad went through some parenting classes and anger management, CPS gave Gina back to them."

"And she died."

Sam nodded. "She had been home a few months by then. It was close to Halloween. We were allowed to make costumes at school. We'd been reading 'The Wizard of Oz' so, naturally, we all decided to dress up based on that." Sam flashed a quick grin. "I mean, witches and wizards and winged monkeys-how cool is that, right?" He picked idly at the plastic water bottle cap. "Gina decided to be a witch. I helped her make a black hat out of construction paper. During recess, I stayed inside and decorated it with glitter and gold stars." Sam licked his lips nervously. "I just-I wanted to surprise her."

"What was your costume?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Winged monkey." He flapped his arms and made little "ee-ee" noises. Quinn giggled.

"We had a special church service after school. So we-we wore our costumes." Sam lowered his eyes. "We were just kids." His voice quieted. "We didn't know."

He fell silent again, lost in his thoughts. Quinn touched his cheek again. "Sam?"

"We had a few minutes before service started. We were in the back yard chasing each other around, having leaf fights, jumping in and out of the piles. Acting like winged monkeys the whole time. And Gina-Gina started saying we were her monkeys and we had to do what she said." Sam crossed his arms over his body, hugging himself and shook his head. "And then she said she was an evil witch and would put a spell on us if we didn't do what she wanted us to."

Sam picked up his chair and threw it across the room, startling Quinn. "STUPID!" He ran over and kicked it twice, sending it into the wall. "It was such a stupid thing to say!"

"Sam, you're seriously freaking me out here." Quinn had one hand on the doorknob. "Do I need to get help?"

"Sorry." Sam ran a hand through his bangs and looked apologetic. "Quinn, really-I'm sorry."

Quinn nodded.

Sam leaned against the makeup counter. "The church elders heard what she said. We have this ceremony. They call it a laying on of hands. Usually it's done in the baptism pool at church. Sometimes a river." Sam shivered, remembering his own recent experience.

"That's like a blessing, though, right?"

Sam shook his head. "The church believes that sin is caused by evil possessing the body. Bring the body to the point of death, the evil leaves."

"That's-"

"Seriously messed up? Yeah. So they dragged Gina and the rest of us into the church sanctuary. Because of what she said, they decided we all needed a laying on of hands." Sam chewed his lip thoughtfully. "Gina's mom took her to the baptism pool. A couple of the elders helped." Sam's eyes grew distant. "She still had the hat. They were trying to pull her into the water but she was holding her arms out trying to keep the hat from getting wet, you know?"

Sam shuddered and Quinn could hear the emotion choking his voice.

"I-I guess they thought she was fighting them. But she wasn't, she just-. They had her in the water and she started screaming. And I knew. I knew something wasn't right. The way she sounded, it wasn't-normal. Her mom grabbed her up and shoved her under a couple more times. Gina's screaming got worse. Her mom picked her up again and this time-this time when she went to duck her under again, she slammed her head against the marble edge of the pool." For a long moment, Sam fell silent, eyes unfocused, remembering. "And then she wasn't screaming any more."

Quinn walked over , slid her arms around Sam's waist and hugged him. She felt his tears dampening her shoulder and his body trembling under her touch. "You still have nightmares about it?" Sam muffled something she thought was a yes. "But it's Sarah instead of Gina?" Another muffled yes, she thought.

Quinn pulled back and held Sam's face in her hands, looking him deep in the eyes.

"First, we're going to go get Sarah. Second, I'm taking you to the hospital. Then, we're calling Det. Pulaski and getting this ridiculous investigation stopped."

"I can't trust a system I've already seen fail."

Quinn kissed him softly on his cheek. "You can trust me." She took his hands in hers and coaxed him towards the door.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** I know Burt may seem OOC here, but there's a reason for it.

Part Nine

As soon as Kurt walked into Hummel Tires and Lube, he heard his dad and Finn laughing. He entered the first bay and saw them in the back by the coffee maker and microwave. Apparently, they were reliving some great moment in football history. The laughter stopped when Kurt approached. Burt looked surprised to see his son.

"Kurt, hey. How you feeling?"

"Me? I'm fine."

"You sure?" Burt reached over to feel Kurt's forehead. Kurt batted his hand away impatiently.

"Finn said you left Glee early. Said you were sick."

Kurt felt the weight of unspoken questions behind his dad's steady gaze. The main one being did he need to take a flamethrower to McKinley High yet. A quick smile flitted across Kurt's lips at the thought. "It's nothing. I probably should have just eaten more at lunch. Speaking of food-" Kurt cleared a space on the counter for the bento box he'd brought, "-I have your dinner." He started unpacking the food and arranging it on a decorative plate. "It's a new recipe." Kurt put a small dish of thick red sauce in the microwave and set it on low. "Pan seared tofu in a chilled lettuce wrap with ginger-pomegranate dipping sauce."

Burt Hummel shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "Thanks, but-Finn already picked up some burgers."

Finn, mouth full of cheeseburger, murmured affirmatively and offered Kurt a sandwich. Kurt read the cheeseburger wrapper and arched an eyebrow at Finn. "Death By Bacon?"

Finn shrugged. "S'good." He took another bite.

Kurt hmphed. "I think not." He put his burger and the burger and fries obviously meant for his dad into the fast food bag and shoved it back into Finn's hands.

"Don't be rude." Burt reached around Kurt for the burger and fries but Kurt sidestepped to block him.

"Dad-".

"I'm sick of your faggy vegan crap, Kurt!"

Finn choked on his sandwich, looking worriedly from Burt to Kurt and back again.

Burt Hummel grabbed the fast food bag from Finn. "I'm a guy, I want guy food. Real food." He held up the bag, making his point. "Meat!" Burt took the cheeseburger into his office and slammed the door.

The stricken look on Kurt's face reminded Finn of a kicked puppy. "I don't think he meant it like-"

"Relax, Finn. I didn't take it that way." Finn had heard almost those same words six months ago. Kurt was lying when he said them this time, too. The microwave beeped. Kurt removed the dipping sauce and set it on the plate with the lettuce wraps . Absently, he folded a napkin and set it next to the food. "Congratulations, Finn." Kurt's face settled into his carefully neutral smile that hid everything and fooled no one. Finn hated that smile. "Apparently you are a better son than I am."

"Kurt-" Finn reached out but Kurt smacked his hand away, hard.

"Don't!" Kurt backed away. "Just-don't." He stormed out, boots clicking sharply against the concrete floor.

* * *

Burt Hummel sat in his office staring blankly at the bacon cheeseburger and fries. One of the guys must have left them on his desk. They meant well but he'd have to remind them that this stuff was off limits since his heart attack. He glanced at the clock. Kurt said he would bring dinner over and Burt was getting hungry. He looked out into the bay area just in time to see Kurt leaving. Probably forgot something in his car.

Burt came out of his office and looked at Finn, puzzled. "You and Kurt come together?"

Finn frowned, confused by the question. Burt Hummel had seen them arrive separately. "No."

He watched as Burt walked over and picked up the plate of tofu lettuce wraps. "Kurt bring this for me?" Finn nodded, watching Burt warily. He acted like the last few minutes hadn't even happened. Burt took a bite and made a sound of approval. He nodded toward the exit. "He forget something?"

"Kurt left." Finn said slowly.

Burt's face fell. "Left? Without saying a word to me?" He wiped his fingers on the napkin. "I mean, yeah, I've been busy trying to catch up on the backlog but-." He looked toward the exit again, hurt and disappointed. "But I always made time for him. He knows that."

Burt picked up another lettuce wrap , dipped it and took a bite, licking the sauce from his fingers as it dribbled down.

"Man, this is good. I'll have to tell Kurt this one's a keeper."

Finn's jaw tightened. He knew how much it would have meant to Kurt to hear his dad's approval.

"Even though it's faggy vegan crap?"

Burt set the plate down roughly. "Hey! What'd I tell you about using that word?"

Finn stood to confront Burt Hummel. "Kurt left because you said you were sick of his faggy vegan crap."

Burt's face reddened. "I would never call my son-!"

"You just did!" Finn snapped back.

Burt shook his head and sat down. "No." He took off his baseball cap, smoothed a palm across his head and pulled the cap back on firmly. "Maybe it's the meds." He met Finn's eyes, troubled by what he had apparently said to Kurt. "I don't remember saying it."

Finn took in Burt's confused expression, the pained look in his eyes and believed him. He really didn't know what he had done. "Doesn't matter. Kurt's gonna remember you said it."

"Dammit…"

* * *

As Finn drove Burt home, they discussed what he could do to make things right with Kurt. Finally, as they pulled up in front of the house, Finn sighed and looked over at Burt.

"We both know what Kurt wants. He's been going on about it for a month."

"Yeah, but-." Burt hesitated only for a second. "Yeah, sure, I'm in. But if I'm gonna let Kurt drag me around trying on clothes for the next two hours, you're getting a makeover , too."

Finn grinned, feeling better about his relationship with Burt and Kurt than he had in a long time. If getting fitted for a couple of pairs of jeans and boots could coax a smile to Kurt's face-a real one-he was all for it. Besides, he felt bad about what he had said in Glee and figured he owed some bonding time to his almost brother.

Burt got out and headed for the garage while Finn walked up the sidewalk to the house.

"You grab Kurt-and don't take no for an answer. I'm gonna grab my Mellencamp cd from the garage."

Finn nodded. He entered the house and, after a quick glance to make sure Kurt wasn't upstairs, headed for the basement. He knocked briefly on the door before heading down.

"Kurt, come on, we're taking you to-what the hell-?"

Finn Hudson stood on the landing to Kurt's room, shocked by the destruction he faced. Curtains had been ripped from the ceiling. That weird privacy thing lay in pieces against the wall. A chair looked like it had been thrown across the room. And the vanity table. The mirror was shattered, broken glass lay scattered across floor. Most of Kurt's skin care bottles looked like they had been smashed against the wall.

He came down the rest of the stairs and into Kurt's room, turning slowly to take in the damage. The closet doors were open. Finn didn't remember Kurt having that much empty space for his clothes. He found Kurt's coat in the middle of the floor and automatically picked it up to keep it from wrinkling. A wadded piece of paper fell out. Finn finished hanging the coat up before going back to the paper and opening it up.

It was an ad for Hummel Tires and Lube. The word "lube" had been highlighted and exclamation marks added. Burt Hummel's face had been covered over with a cartoon of Kurt masturbating. Under the price list, someone had written in "pube lube $25". Finally, at the bottom of the ad was a sample tube of KY jelly and a condom. Little cartoon arrows pointed to the fact that the condom was "extra ribbed for your pleasure!". Finn's cheeks burned with embarrassment. He could only imagine how Kurt must have felt when he saw it.

He grabbed an overturned wastebasket, uprighted it and crumpled the ad up before he threw it in. As he set the wastebasket under Kurt's vanity, something else caught his eye. Finn stepped carefully around the broken glass for a closer look. Finn frowned. It was a swatch of the cowboy wallpaper from his room. He realized it was attached to a larger piece of poster board. He tugged it free, shook off the loose glass and set it on the vanity table for a better look.

"Oh, wow…"

Finn recognized it as one of Kurt's project boards he always seemed to be making. For rooms. For costumes. For healthy meals. This one was for the basement area. Next to the cowboy swatch were swatches of paint and fabric. Finn could tell that Kurt had used the wallpaper to pick out the browns and blues for what would be his room. The fabrics-corduroy, denim, faux suede-felt nice. And the furniture in the photos looked like it would be comfortable.

He ran his fingers across the carefully sketched and detailed layout below the swatches. The folding partition thing was gone, replaced with a solid wall of thick glass blocks that separated the two areas, providing light and privacy. And there were two bathrooms now. Each, Finn noted, with its own entrance. Everything he had wanted, Kurt had included.

He heard Kurt's phone ring and fished it out from the bedding on the floor. A text message. From someone named "kermielover". Finn frowned. There were no words, just a picture of a musical note. A b natural Finn thought. Probably from Brittany. It seemed like the sort of weird thing she would send. A second message soon followed. A bass clef. Finn shrugged it off and scrolled through the phone wondering if there was any clue as to where Kurt might be or what he was thinking. Nothing but missed calls from Mercedes and Rachel.

* * *

Burt Hummel wasn't surprised to see the lights on in the garage. Finn said Kurt had had a rough few days at school. If Kurt was that upset, he'd want to find comfort in his mom's memory. Burt eased his way around Kurt's car until he could see his wife's dresser stored in the back. He had finally moved it out of the house when Carole and Finn decided to move in. Someone had taken the tarp off and opened all the drawers.

Bingo. Burt could see Kurt curled up in a leather club chair next to the dresser. His feet dangled over one end, his head rested against the overstuffed back, eyes closed.

"Kurt?"

When Burt finally got around the rest of the car, he saw that Kurt had his headphones in. The iPod had slipped to his thigh and Kurt's right hand rested on it lightly. His left hand curled against his chest. Burt smiled fondly. Even as a baby, Kurt had that habit of curling his left hand just so.

"Hey." Burt crouched next to him and shook his knee. "C'mon. We're going to the mall for the makeovers you've been nagging us about. I'll even try on those ridiculous boots."

When Kurt didn't answer, Burt shook him again, harder. Kurt's arm dropped from his chest; an empty pill bottle fell from his hand and rolled to Burt's feet. He picked it up in disbelief. Nitroglycerin. One of his heart meds. The pills that should have been with him at work not here in the house where Kurt could-. A cold realization seized him. Where Kurt did, he corrected himself angrily. Where Kurt had overdosed on them. He shoved the bottle into his pocket.

"...kurt..."

He yanked the headphones out, threw the iPod to one side, and pulled his son into his arms. Kurt slumped against his chest, lifeless.


	10. Chapter 10

Part Ten

When Finn entered the garage, his first thought was that Burt Hummel was having another heart attack. It was only after running to his side that Finn saw Kurt leaning against Burt's shoulder. Only then that he realized Burt was crying. Finn knelt beside them. He laid a hand on Kurt's chest then looked questioningly at Burt.

"Pills."

Finn quickly shook off his surprise. This wasn't the time for emotions. He nodded once as he took Kurt from Burt's arms. "Call 911."

"Finn-?"

"I've got this." Finn yelled back as he carried Kurt outside

Finn set Kurt down on the hard surface of the driveway as gently as he could. He unzipped Kurt's sweater and opened it away from his chest. Then used a pocketknife to cut down the center of his t-shirt. Kurt could yell at him later. Right now, he needed to do whatever he could to make it easier for Kurt to breathe. He was pretty sure that didn't include skin tight tees.

He heard Burt follow him out of the garage. Heard his voice on the phone with the 911 operator. He looked down at Kurt, pale and still. Finn took a deep breath and released it slowly, calming himself. He could do this. He went to the place in his head he would go during a game when he was getting ready to make a throw. That perfect point of focus and clarity. Everything in the background faded away to just Finn and Kurt.

_ABC._ Finn could hear Coach Beiste's voice in his head. _ABC. Airway. Breathing._ _Compression._ He knew this. Silently, he took back every complaint and rude comment he had ever made about The Beast's mandatory CPR training.

Finn cupped his hand behind Kurt's neck, tilting his head back slightly to open his airway. He covered Kurt's mouth with his. Two breaths. Finn moved to Kurt's chest and positioned his palms. Fifteen compressions. Just do it like he had practiced on the football field with Mike and Sam. Relax. No pressure. Just follow through. Step by step. Once he stopped thinking about Kurt's life being at risk, Finn fell into a easy, steady rhythm.

* * *

Det. Pulaski sat in the station's break room with a cold pizza and a lukewarm Coke working on the Hummel case file. Another detective- Brewster- ducked in and planted a sloppy, noisy, wet kiss on Pulaski's cheek before Pulaski shoved him off, laughing. He heard whistles and catcalls from the detectives watching from the squad room. Brewster winked as he grabbed a slice of the pizza.

"You gonna send me to prison, officer?"

He shoved the pizza in his mouth and playfully offered his wrists to be handcuffed.

"It'd be more action than you've seen in the last three months." Pulaski answered, used to Brewster's humor.

A few more detectives strolled through to grab coffee or a soft drink-or just to good naturedly hassle Det. Pulaski about the Hummel investigation. It had become this week's running joke.

Lost in thought about the case, it was a few minutes before Pulaski realized the background chatter and jokes had died down. He glanced up to see everyone had cleared out. Leaving only Capt. Rutger sitting across the table from him, idly flipping through the copies of his case file.

"John."

"Captain."

Capt. Rutger pulled a photograph of Kurt and Sam kissing from the copies. "This seems redundant."

"That's a copy of the original-before it was Photoshopped." The captain eyed the picture, clearly not pleased. Pulaski tapped the photo. "Look at where Evans' hands are. No way that kiss was nonconsensual."

Capt. Rutger reddened. "That's not your call to make, detective."

Det. Pulaski shrugged. "I screen the case with the prosecutor tomorrow. We'll see if she files charges." He sipped his Coke. "Or not."

Capt. Rutger drummed his fingers on the table. "I expected an arrest by now, Pulaski."

"No, you expected me to kiss Paul Evans' homophobic ass and sacrifice a 16 year old teenager-who happens to be gay-to promote his Christian cultist agenda."

"You're a breath away from insubordination, Pulaski." Capt. Rutger got up and shoved his chair hard against the table before walking out.

Det. Pulaski's cell phone rang and he answered somewhat gruffly, still irritated by his conversation with Rutger.

"Pulaski. Sorry, who? Quince? Just a sec." He grabbed a business card from his wallet and started writing. "Q-u-i-n-n? Yeah, I got it." He went silent, listening to Quinn's rushed explanation about Sam Evans being hurt and taking him to the hospital and asking Det. Pulaski to please meet them there. When she finally took a breath, he quickly interjected a curt, "I'll be there." and hung up.

* * *

Burt Hummel watched Finn continue to work on Kurt before stepping up and squeezing his shoulder to get Finn's attention. "It's time to stop."

"No."

"Finn-"

Finn shook his head, face tight with concentration. "I'm not giving up on him."

"Finn!" Burt put his hands over Finn's and, finally, Finn looked up. "Kurt's breathing."

Finn glanced down at Kurt, surprised, but noted his color did look better. He also realized that the paramedics were waiting to transfer Kurt to a gurney. Finn reached over to smooth Kurt's bangs off of his forehead. He stepped aside as Burt gave Kurt a quick kiss on the temple, squeezed his hand and then let the medics load him into the ambulance.

* * *

Paul Evans whistled as he stepped onto the plush carpeting of his real estate office. He caught his reflection in the polished chrome pillars of the reception area. Blue eyes, blonde hair, easygoing grin. Even the laugh lines around his eyes worked to his benefit, putting people in mind of Robert Redford. Everything from his clothes to his handshake said, "Trust me."

He had just closed a major deal for the church. He hadn't been able to get the property they wanted . The city insisted on developing a mall on the site. But, he had successfully purchased the adjacent property. What the city planners hadn't realized yet was that the church now owned the land that contained the utilities and only access road to their proposed mall. Paul Evans chuckled to himself. God was good.

He checked in with his receptionist, picked up his messages and flipped through them quickly. "Anything else?"

"There's a woman from Child Protective Services waiting for you."

Paul Evans' smile never faltered as he strode into his office.

Mrs. Della Rose stood as Paul entered and they hugged briefly. Paul moved to his desk, sat down and templed his fingers thoughtfully. "Sam?"

Della nodded. "Sam. CPS was just contacted by Mercy Central Hospital. I'm on my way to meet with a Det. John Pulaski."

"Pulaski." Paul Evan's smile quickly turned to a scowl. "What about Sarah?"

"She's at the hospital, too."

"Who do we have in place at Mercy Central?"

Della Rose thought a moment before answering. "Two or three nurses, a couple of security guards, an orderly and a pharmacy technician." She considered, "We might be able to move two of the security guards from Mercy North in. I doubt anyone would notice."

"Do it." Paul picked up his phone. "I'll let the elders know there's a problem. You go ahead and meet with Det. Pulaski, find out as much as you can about what evidence they have. I'll be there shortly."


	11. Chapter 11

Part Eleven

Det. Pulaski sat in the detention area of Mercy Central just off of the emergency room interviewing Mary Evans, wife of Paul Evans. She had been taken into custody by the security guards at the main entrance as soon as she entered the hospital. Det. Pulaski was doing his best to conduct the interview with a straight face. It wasn't easy with all of the b.s. Mrs. Evans was throwing his way.

"You're saying Sam's wounds were self-inflicted?"

"We believe in mortification of the flesh. It's a religious ritual designed to bring us closer to God." She eyed Det. Pulaski coolly. "I don't expect you to be familiar with the term."

"Mortification usually involves fasting."

Mary raised an eyebrow, surprised at the detective's knowledge of her church's practice. "Not always." She nodded towards the Polaroid photos of Sam's back on the table between them. "Obviously. The greater the corruption, the more stringent the measure needed to excise the moral flaw."

"Being gay must be a pretty serious corruption, huh?"

Mary pursed her lips, offended. "My son is not-!" She looked away. "He was tempted by that abomination."

"And by 'abomination' you're referring to Kurt Hummel?" No response. "I need you to say yes or no for the tape, ma'am."

"Yes."

Det. Pulaski tossed an evidence bag onto to the table.

"Earlier today I conducted a search warrant at your house and recovered this belt. Do you recognize it?"

"Yes."

"Is that the belt that was used to whip your son, Sam Evans?"

Mary answered sharply, emphasizing her words to correct Det. Pulaski's assumptions. "I believe it to be the belt my son used to chastise himself, yes."

"Whose belt is it?"

"Sam's."

Det. Pulaski sipped his coffee before casually asking, "How does a kid with a 32 inch waist wear a 44 inch belt?"

Mary Evans paled. "How-?"

Pulaski sifted through the photos before finding the two he wanted. He shoved them across the table and tapped on them, drawing her attention down. They were close up photos of specific impressions on Sam's shoulders.

"That belt has a raised, stamped metal tip on the end. Those marks were made by that metal tip hitting Sam's skin. If Sam caused his own injuries by whipping himself over the shoulder as you've indicated, those marks should be at his waist area and pointing down." Pulaski's anger colored his voice, adding an intimidating rumble. "They're not. They're on his shoulders and pointing up." He fixed Mrs. Evans with a piercing, unsympathetic gaze. "It's physically impossible for Sam to have done this to himself."

He glanced over at Mrs. Della Rose. So far during the interview, she had been quietly observing and taking notes. However, at Pulaski's revelation, she nervously began shuffling her papers into her briefcase and preparing to leave.

"Anything you'd like to add, Mrs. Rose?"

"Obviously, I need to remove Sam and Sarah immediately and place them into foster care. Fortunately, there's a lovely young couple from the Evans' church who are happy to take them in." She stood to leave. "I'll be in touch, detective."

Det. Pulaski's fist slammed into the table, startling both ladies. "Sit. Down. This interview is over when I say it's over." He would deal with Della Rose's involvement in this shortly. But she didn't need to know just yet that he was on to her. Meekly, Della Rose sank back into her chair.

"The bruises on Sam's neck." Pulaski slid another photo over to Mrs. Evans. "Any idea how those happened?"

"I've already answered that question."

"I need it on record."

Mary Evans fidgeted with her wedding band, clearly uncomfortable with Det. Pulaski's question. Finally, she sighed and answered softly, "That abomi-that-boy-choked him during sex." Her lips tightened into a thin line. "It's what those people do."

"You don't strike me as a woman who would know about choking fetishes."

"Google." She answered stiffly.

"You make a habit of Googling kinky sex practices?", Pulaski couldn't resist asking.

Mary gasped, turning bright pink. "Certainly not! My husband-"

Pulaski raised an eyebrow. "Your husband likes to look up potentially lethal kinky sex ideas?" Mary Evans stammered, obviously flustered. Det. Pulaski took another sip of coffee. "I'd say you've got more serious things to worry about than which team your son's batting for."

Det. Pulaski leaned back in his chair, watching the two women silently and gauging their body language and facial expressions. He needed to get back and check on Sam. Time to bring this interrogation to a close.

"The size and spread of the bruises on Sam's neck don't match Kurt's hand span. I've got a search warrant for your husband's finger and hand prints. I'm guessing they're going to be a perfect match. What do you think?"

Mrs. Evans glanced at the clock. She had been talking to Det. Pulaski for over an hour. She prayed that she had delayed the detective long enough for her husband Paul to complete his plans. Mary squared her shoulders and lifted her chin slightly. "I think I'd like to see my attorney now."

"Fair enough. Stand up, turn around, put your hands behind your back. I'm placing you under arrest for felony child abuse." He handcuffed her quickly. And, after a cursory pat down, let her return to her seat.

Meanwhile, Della Rose stood up and had one hand on the door, ready to leave.

"Not so fast." Det. Pulaski pulled out a second pair of handcuffs. "Same thing. Hands behind your back."

"Excuse me?"

Pulaski took her briefcase out of her hands, pulled her wrists back and had Della handcuffed before she could protest again. He set her into a chair, not being particularly gentle about it.

"My partner saw you at Paul Evans' real estate office earlier. He recognized you when you showed up here on behalf of CPS." Pulaski lied easily. Sam Evans had recognized Della as church member when Pulaski had mentioned her as the assigned CPS caseworker. But she didn't need to know that. "Seems like a conflict of interest at least." Pulaski smiled coldly. "But I'm betting the prosecutor will go for obstruction of justice."

Det. Pulaski double checked their handcuffs before leaving. "Ladies, a female officer will be in shortly to do a thorough body search. When the wagon arrives, we'll get you transported to Central Processing."

With that, he closed the door and walked down the corridor to check on Sam.

* * *

Embarrassed. Humiliated. Sam tried not flinch as the police officer continued photographing his body. But in the harsh lights of the hospital exam room dressed only in his underwear with a stranger cataloging every mark on his skin, it was hard. Each flash of the camera etched this moment deeper in his memory. Made it more real somehow. More painful even. He knew it was necessary, but the experience left him feeling ashamed and vulnerable. Hurting. He thought of Kurt and wished he would call or text soon.

"Lift your chin. Good. And hold."

The officer assured him they were almost done. They had already covered front and back. Now the photos focused on the bruises around his neck.

"But they already took pictures!"

Sam smiled when he heard Sarah's voice on the other side of the privacy curtain.

"Yes, but this officer is taking _good_ pictures."

Sam tried not to laugh at Rachel's response. She was still bristling over her initial encounter with Det. Pulaski at McKinley High. When he had answered Quinn's request and showed up at Mercy Central, Rachel's second run-in with the detective hadn't been any friendlier. The snide comment about Det. Pulaski's hurriedly snapped Polaroids would never be heard by the intended victim. Just Rachel Berry's way of soothing her ruffled feathers.

Rachel Berry. She had been the last person he'd expected Quinn to contact. And when Quinn had explained that Rachel's dads were foster parents? Sam was still having a wtf? moment over that little surprise. But Quinn had merely shrugged, murmured something again about checking into all of her options and left things at that. He heard Rachel's voice again. Then Quinn's. And, after a moment, Sarah giggling. He had to admit, Rachel and Sarah seemed to have made a connection.

"We're done. You can get dressed now."

The police photographer left. Sam glanced at the hospital gown waiting for him. Showing off his abs at school was one thing. Walking around with his ass hanging out of a flimsy gown was another. He opted for his jeans and sweater instead, but left his t-shirt off.

When he pulled the curtain back, he saw Det. Pulaski had come in and was being badgered by Rachel.

"My dads-"

"One, are not here yet. And two, still need to go through the Child Protective Services caseworker. When everyone is here, Miss Berry-and not one minute before-we will sit down and work things out."

Sarah snuggled against Rachel's arm as Quinn stroked her hair.

"I wanna go with Rachel."

Rachel flashed a triumphant if smug smile at Pulaski. He ignored her to crouch down in front of Sarah and put a hand on her knee. "We'll see what we can do, sweetie. Right now, I need you to do something else."

There was a knock on the door and Det. Brewster walked in. "They're ready. And Off. Reyes is here to do the body searches."

Det. Pulaski nodded. "Sarah, Det. Brewster is going to take you down to Radiology for some x-rays."

Sarah glanced at Sam for his reaction. He smiled and nodded encouragingly. "It's okay, it won't hurt."

Sarah considered for a moment, before looking at Det. Brewster slyly, "Do I get candy afterwards?"

Det. Brewster held his hand out for Sarah to take. "I think we can work something out-if it's okay with your big brother."

Sarah looked at Sam hopefully. "One Hershey bar or orange juice. Not both." Quinn looked at him quizzically. Sam shrugged. "The chocolate has antioxidants, the juice has vitamin C. I don't want her eating pure junk."

Quinn laughed. "You're such a good brother." Sam blushed at her compliment.

After Det. Brewster and Sarah left, Det. Pulaski sat down with Sam. Rachel was only half listening, making a point of texting while he was talking. Quinn, though, stayed by Sam's side, one hand on his knee and listened intently.

"Your mom and Della Rose are in custody. They'll be taken to jail shortly. I've got an APB out for your dad and officers at the church, his office, your house and McKinley looking for him."

Sam nodded. He swallowed hard before asking, "What if he shows up here?"

"The hospital security guards have his photo. They're aware of the situation." Pulaski reached for Sam's wrist and checked his hospital i.d. "The nurses got that changed?" Sam nodded again. "Good. That lets them know that your visitors need to be screened."

Pulaski stood to leave. "I need to check on your mom. Right now, this is the safest place for you. Stay here." He squeezed Sam's shoulder. "You're handling this better than a lot of adults I know. Just hang on a little bit longer."

As soon as Det. Pulaski left, Rachel looked up gleefully. "My dads will be here any minute. And they've already contacted the CPS caseworker and gotten approval for you and Sarah to stay with us." She glanced at the door. "Let's see what Det. Pulaski thinks of that!" Her smile faltered. "I mean-that's okay with you, right, Sam?"

Sam flashed a grin that was more reassuring than he really felt. "Yeah. That sounds great. Thanks."

"Hey." Quinn patted his knee. "I'm really proud of you. I know this hasn't been easy. But you did it, Sam."

Rachel's soft gasp startled them both. She read the text message she had just received out loud. "Finn's here-with Kurt."

Sam's face lit up. "Kermie!" He dropped his shoes and socks and ran barefoot out into the hall, brushing Rachel's hand aside as she tried to grab him.

"Sam, wait! It isn't-"

Quinn looked over Rachel's shoulder to read the rest of Finn's text. "Oh, my God."

They both ran out after Sam, trying to stop him.

* * *

Sam spotted Finn in the emergency room's lobby right away. There was an older man he didn't recognize with Finn. Sam slowed to a fast walk, scanning the area. No sign of Kurt. The paramedics had brought in a new trauma and were wheeling him into the closest emergency room. Impatiently, Sam waited for them to clear the corridor so he could reach Finn, not paying attention to what was being said in the background.

"16 year old white male. Unresponsive. Possible o.d."

Finally, Sam caught Finn's attention but Finn barely glanced his way. Instead, his attention seemed focused on the activity in the emergency room. Quinn and Rachel caught up with him. Rachel immediately went to the older man next to Finn and hugged him.

Quinn touched Sam's shoulder lightly, her face full of concern and sympathy. "Sam…"

Confused, Sam glanced from Quinn back to Finn, then looked over to where Finn's attention was focused.

"On three. One, two and three-lift!"

The paramedics smoothly moved Kurt onto the hospital gurney and stepped aside, letting the Mercy Central staff take over his care.

Sam caught a glimpse of Kurt's face and ripped t-shirt and unconsciously tightened his hands into fists. He flashed back to his dream. Remembered the sense of loss he'd felt as Kurt had slipped from his reach.

"Pupils dilated and reactive."

"Prep to intubate."

"Primary and secondary i.v. established."

He glanced worriedly at Quinn. "Do you think my dad-?"

Quinn chewed her lip, thoughtfully. "I don't know, Sam." She grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

Burt Hummel stopped one of the nurses and handed her the empty pill bottle.

"This was with him. I think he overdosed on nitroglycerin."

"That's a lie!" Sam broke from Quinn and turned to confront Burt, furious. "Kurt wouldn't do that." He glanced at the swarm of people descending on Kurt. A nurse cut Kurt's clothes away and tossed them in a corner. A doctor tilted his chin back and slid a plastic tube down his throat. Blood was drawn. Wired leads from an ekg were fastened to his chest. And Kurt lay on the gurney unresponsive to anything.

"He wouldn't leave me." Sam murmured unconvincingly.

Burt Hummel glared. "Who the hell are you?"

Quinn and Rachel, overhearing the conversation, hurried up, each taking one of Sam's arms in hers.

"He's a friend of ours."

"And of Kurt's."

"He's a friend of our Kurt." Rachel frowned, that did not come out right.

Sam shrugged free, irritated. "I'm Kurt's boyfriend!" He was thrilled to finally be able to say that out loud. He eyed Burt defiantly, daring him to challenge his claim. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Kurt's dad." Burt said threateningly.

"BOYFRIEND?"

Finn broke past the two girls and tackled Sam into the wall, knocking the air out of him. He grabbed Sam's sweater , yanked him up and slammed him into the wall again, holding him there. "What the hell, dude?" He punched Sam once. He pulled back for another blow but Sam shoved him off.

Finn came at him again, grabbing his face and forcing Sam to look at Kurt. "You did this to him!" He threw Sam to the floor. "You let the police-you let us-you let _me_ think he was coming onto you!" Finn looked at Kurt, feeling guilty.

Sam landed his own solid punch to Finn's jaw, rocking his head back. He lunged for Finn again but Burt Hummel grabbed him around the waist and hauled him back.

"Knock it off!"

Finn tried to take advantage and come after Sam yet again but by this time Det. Pulaski arrived to keep Finn in check.

"You're not good enough for Kurt!"

Two security officers and a petite nurse with dark brown hair hurried over. Det. Pulaski nodded to the two guards. "It's okay. Everything's under control now." He glanced at the nurse. "Sorry for the disruption."

The nurse smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Det. Pulaski, but we have rules. This young man will need to go with the guards to in-patient detention to finish treatment. Or he'll have to leave the hospital."

Sam glanced over his shoulder at Kurt. "I'm not leaving!"

Det. Pulaski eyed the nurse critically. "Finn started the fight."

"Again, I'm sorry, but the only thing I saw was this young man-" she indicated Sam "-throwing a punch at the other young man." She looked at the security guards who nodded, confirming what they had seen, too.

Pulaski sighed. "Where's in-patient detention?"

"Second floor, Room 234."

"The security guards will stay with him?"

"Of course, detective."

"I'm not-" Sam started to protest again.

"Shut. Up." Pulaski quickly silenced him. "The sooner you calm down, the sooner you get to see your boyfriend. Got that?"

Sam glared at Finn but mumbled in agreement under his breath.

Det. Pulaski glanced at his pager. "Wagon's here. I need to get your mom and Della loaded. Go with the guards and don't give them any problems, Sam. I'll be up in a few minutes."

The guards escorted Sam to the elevators and Det. Pulaski headed back to the non-patient detention area. Burt Hummel fixed Finn, Rachel and Quinn with a steely gaze. A guilty flush crept up Finn's face and the two girls shifted on their feet uncomfortably.

"One of you better start talking. Now."

In a far corner of the lobby, the petite nurse with dark hair approached a man reading a three month old issue of Time.

"They're waiting for you."

Paul Evans looked up from the article he was reading. "Thank you, Marisa."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **You guys are the best reviewers ever! Seriously, almost 70 reviews-thank you so much!

"**Lullaby" (Goodnight My Angel)** by Billy Joel.

"**Is It Okay If I Call You Mine?" ** by Paul McCrane from the original "Fame" movie. (Several versions available on youtube.)

Part Twelve

Nurse Marisa found Burt Hummel in the Quiet Room down the hall from the main Emergency Room lobby with Finn, Quinn and Rachel. Burt was red faced and obviously upset and the kids looked guilty. Interesting. She wished she had come in earlier to find out what they had been talking about.

"Mr. Hummel?"

Burt looked up and nodded at the petite brunette.

"I have some good news. Kurt's breathing has improved and we've taken him off the respirator."

Burt let out a shaky breath, relieved.

Marisa smiled at him warmly. "We'll be moving your son upstairs to ICU shortly. After we get him settled in, then you'll be able to see him again." She patted his arm reassuringly, "Don't worry, I'll personally see to it that Kurt is taken care of."

* * *

Room 234 on the second floor of Mercy Central was for Outpatient Gynecology. At 9:30 at night, it was closed. Obviously, Sam Evans and the security guards who had taken him into custody weren't here. Immediately, Det. Pulaski radioed Det. Brewster. No response. After several more failed attempts, Pulaski contacted the police dispatch and asked them to try Brewster by radio, phone and pager. Det. Pulaski's jaw tightened as he headed downstairs to Radiology.

In Radiology, there was no sign of Sarah Evans or Det. Brewster. Pulaski checked with the registration desk. Apparently, they had never arrived. He let out a frustrated breath. On the way back to the Emergency Room lobby, Det. Pulaski burned up his radio making calls. First, he requested officers to cover the hospital exits. Next, he requested additional uniformed officers to meet him in the Emergency Room. And, finally, he initiated a complete lockdown of Mercy Central.

* * *

Hydrotherapy Pool.

Open: Monday through Friday. 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.

Pool is now: CLOSED.

Sam froze as he read the sign on the door. When the two security guards urged him forward, he started fighting them with everything he had left. Unfortunately, with his previous injuries and the more recent fight with Finn, what he had left wasn't enough to keep the guards from dragging him inside. His heart sank when he saw Det. Brewster was already there. Holding Sarah at gunpoint.

"Sammie?" Sarah started to climb down off the stool she was sitting on but Brewster put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

Sam licked his lips nervously. "It's okay, Sarah, stay where you are." He checked out the room as the two guards walked him over to the pool area. There was only one entrance. A panic button he wouldn't be able to get to without confronting Brewster. A couple of showers and bath tubs and, of course, the shallow pool. Nothing Sam saw so far that would help him get Sarah out of there.

The double glass doors slid open again and Paul Evans entered. He nodded at the two guards holding Sam then glanced at Det. Brewster with a disapproving frown.

"I don't approve of my 9 year old daughter being held at gunpoint, detective."

"You having second thoughts?"

Paul Evans stiffened, insulted. "Not at all." He walked over to his son and touched Sam's cheek. Seeing the genuine affection and sadness his dad's eyes was more than Sam could take and he looked away. "Abraham offered up Isaac his beloved son to God's will." Paul felt tears in his eyes. "How can I do any less?"

Sam remembered what Quinn had said about exploring all of his options. He didn't seem to have too many at the moment. And then it came to him and Sam almost laughed at the simpleness of the solution. Resistance is futile. Sam gave a silent thank you to all of the Star Trek Borg episodes he had watched. Resistance was futile, so he wouldn't resist. He would pretend to give in but on his terms. All he had to do was delay his dad long enough for Det. Pulaski to find them.

"You're right, Dad." Paul Evans looked into Sam's eyes, surprised and feeling a spark of hope. "I want this-this sickness of the flesh out of me. But not like this." Sam chewed his lip. He was being careful with his choice of words, reverting to the language he had grown up with in the church. He held his father's gaze. "The laying on of hands is a sacrament, a holy ritual." He paused, he could see that his dad was listening. "You taught me that."

"Yes."

"To perform it here in this place-under these circumstances-would be vulgar." Sam saw the flicker of doubt in Paul Evans' eyes. "If you ever loved me, take me back to the church. Take me to the baptism pool." Sam pressed his dad quietly. "Even the river would be better." Sam turned his head and kissed his father's palm. "Please."

* * *

It was a moment of pure luck that Det. Pulaski was returning to the Emergency Room lobby just as Marisa came out of the Quiet Room. He grabbed her as soon as he saw her, forced her against a wall and secured her hands behind her back with a zip tie. She struggled as he marched her down the corridor to the nurses' station.

"I won't tell you where they are!"

"I don't need you to."

Marisa looked at him in surprise. He couldn't have found Paul Evans and the others already.

Pulaski held her against the nurses' station. He finally spotted an older nurse he recognized and called her over.

"Doris, I need to trace an i.d. bracelet."

Doris sat at the computer and quickly brought up the screen she needed.

"Last name?"

"Evans. E-v-a-n-s."

"First name?"

"Samuel."

Marisa smirked as she watched Pulaski and Doris. "Only the maternity and psych wards use microchip i.d. bracelets."

"I know." It was Det. Pulaski's turn to smirk. "That's why I had Sam's bracelet changed."

The computer beeped and Doris read off the information. "Hydrotherapy, fourth floor, room 450."

Marisa jerked away. Pulaski grabbed her and took her to the ground, holding here there with one hand while he waved down a uniformed officer with the other. When the officer came over, Pulaski handed Marisa to him.

"Take her to detention."

He radioed for Reyes to bring back up and meet him at the elevators.

* * *

Paul Evans watched his son for a long moment before finally shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Sam, but no. This is how it has to be."

The guards moved Sam towards the pool but he balked. "Wait!" He shrugged out of their hold. "My clothes."

Paul nodded and gave Sam a few moments to shrug out of his sweater and jeans. He was laying his folded clothes on a poolside chair when something in the water caught his eye. Another panic alarm. Now that he was at the pool's edge, he could see there was an alarm on every side of the pool. If he could reach one of them, maybe he could get help.

Sam checked on Sarah again. She was rocking back and forth, twisting her hair around her finger. The noises she was making as she cried were louder, panicked and desperate. Sam's eyes darkened with concern.

He lowered himself into the pool and moved to the narrow end by his sister. Sam stood in the water, head bowed, fingers ready. He heard his dad climb into the pool behind him.

Sam made his move. He set off the alarm and immediately a loud, persistent beep sounded, filling the room.

Sam turned and landed a solid punch to his dad's jaw that dazed him enough for Sam to shove him away. One of the security guards went to help Paul Evans. The other trained his gun on Sam as he pulled himself out of the pool near Sarah. Unfortunately, his line of fire now crossed Brewster's.

"Lower your gun before you shoot me, you idiot!" Det. Brewster aimed his gun at Sam, prepared to fire. "I've got him."

At that moment, the doors to the Hydrotherapy room slid open. Brewster turned and raised his gun to Pulaski as he came through the entrance.

Sam seized his opportunity. He pulled Sarah to the floor and shielded her, pulling her head to his chest and telling her to close her eyes and cover her ears. Her body trembled against his and he wrapped his arms tighter around her. Her small hands fisted his shirt. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, too, praying for the best, expecting the worst.

Pulaski felt something graze his cheek as he squeezed off two quick rounds and saw Det. Brewster fall back and stay down. He heard more shots fired on either side of him and the two security guards went down as well.

Someone grabbed Sam's shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Det. Pulaski crouched beside them, gun drawn, blood trickling down his face. Being so close to the gunfire, Sam was momentarily deafened from the shots. He couldn't understand what Pulaski was saying to him but nodded when the detective pointed his thumb towards the door. Sam Evans picked up Sarah and carried his sister through the chaos that descended on the room.

He looked back once. The security guards were down and moaning in pain. Det. Brewster lay flat on his back, eyes open and unseeing, blood pooling beneath his body. His dad was choking as he was pulled out of the pool. Aside from swallowing some water, Paul Evans had apparently survived untouched. Sam turned away before his dad could look at him, feeling sick. His dad was alive. This wasn't over.

* * *

Sam sat on the couch in the conference room, one arm protectively around Sarah as she curled up on his lap. He was wearing too big scrubs provided by the hospital but at least the clothes were dry. Sam tuned out the background noises of sirens and police radios and the arguing between Det. Pulaski and his captain. His gaze slid over to Rachel and her dads at the table deep in discussion with the new CPS caseworker. They were deciding his fate and Sam was hard pressed to care.

Still dazed from everything that had happened, it took a few moments before Sam realized that Quinn was offering him a sandwich and drink and encouraging him to eat something.

"Later."

"Sweetie…" Quinn gave him an exasperated look. She reached over and brushed the bangs out of his eyes. "You need to take care of yourself, too."

"I will." He promised. "I just want to get my sister settled first."

He kissed Sarah's forehead and she snuggled against his side. He started singing softly, her favorite lullaby.

_Goodnight, my angel_

_Time to close your eyes_

_And save these questions for another day._

_I think I know what you've been asking me_

_I think you know what I've been trying to say._

Rachel looked over and smiled happily. Apparently something had been worked out because her dads left the table and were coming towards the couch.

_I promised I would never leave you_

_And you should always know_

_Wherever you may go_

_No matter where you are_

_I never will be far away._

Rachel's dad-Sam thought his name was Royce-held his arms out to take Sarah. Sam had a moment of doubt but Rachel touched his arm and nodded. "She'll be in my room, Sam." Rachel flashed a confident grin. "Don't worry, she'll love it!"

Rachel's other dad-Reece?-quietly watched Sam with compassionate eyes as Royce and Rachel started chattering about how well they would take care of Sarah. From his expression, Sam had the impression that Rachel and Royce were often going off into their own little conversations and Reece tolerated them to a point. After a moment, he cleared his throat loudly to get their attention.

"You need to get Sarah home. I'll stay with Sam and call you in a bit."

Rachel reddened at the gentle admonishment. Reece gave Royce a quick kiss then watched as he carried Sarah out of the hospital, Rachel at his side.

Quinn's phone rang and she glanced at the incoming text.

"It's Mercedes. Again. She's outside with Tina and Artie. I really should let them know what's going on." She hugged Sam, careful of his back. "Are you okay if I leave?"

Sam nodded. He watched Quinn leave and only then realized he was alone with Reece. He had nothing against Rachel's dad, but Reece was a stranger and Sam longed for a familiar face. At that moment, Det. Pulaski walked in. He plopped next to Sam on the couch and Sam was struck by how weary he looked. Pulaski glanced at Reece then Sam.

"CPS get everything worked out?"

"Yeah." Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. "Now what?" He dreaded the thought of being dragged off to give yet another statement to yet another police officer.

"Now we go upstairs to ICU. I distract Papa Bear Hummel and you maybe get a chance to see Kurt."

"Really?" Sam was on his feet and halfway across the room before Pulaski had gotten off the couch.

"Should I come with you?" asked Reece.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather you didn't.", Det. Pulaski answered. "I'm sure Mr. Hummel has a lot of questions that he might not be comfortable asking in front of you."

"I understand. Sam, I'll be right here if you need anything."

Sam, anxious to leave, nodded curtly. "Thanks."

* * *

Det. Pulaski walked Sam up to Kurt Hummel's hospital room. They stood in the doorway, the detective standing protectively behind Sam, hands on his shoulders while Burt Hummel stood just as protectively-if not more so-in front of Kurt's bed, blocking their way.

Burt Hummel scrutinized the blonde teen from head to toe. Boyfriend. His son had a boyfriend. A secret one. Burt's frown deepened. Sure, he had said he wasn't ready to talk about boys but he hadn't meant for Kurt to feel like he had to hide his relationships. He crossed his arms.

"So, Kurt's boyfriend, you got a real name?"

"I'm Sam." Sam flashed a tired, half-hearted grin. "Sam I am."

"You're not gonna follow that with green eggs and ham are you?"

"Not any more."

Sam wavered . Burt felt a twinge of guilt. The kid had been through hell and was half-dead on his feet. Still, here he was checking on Kurt.

Burt pulled a chair over to Kurt's bedside and not too gruffly guided Sam into it. "Sit down before you fall down." Sam sank into the chair gratefully. "I need to have a word with Det. Pulaski." Burt cleared his throat. "Maybe you could keep an eye on Kurt while I step out?" Bleary eyed, Sam nodded.

To his credit, Burt Hummel only looked over his shoulder once as he left Sam alone with Kurt.

Kurt had tried to kill himself. Sam sighed. He should be wondering why and what he should have said or done to stop him. Wondering what Kurt had been thinking at the time. The truth was, there were too many thoughts in Sam's head at the moment. Yes, they would need to talk. Yes, there were questions he needed answers to. But for now, all Sam wanted to think about was that Kurt was still very much alive.

"I just want you to know-" Sam leaned over to whisper in Kurt's ear, "-you're sleeping on percale sheets. _Polyester_, Kermie. The stuff that causes premature wrinkles. Even worse, I'm pretty sure the pillow is foam rubber. And dude, seriously, you don't even want know how unflattering that hospital gown is. The sooner you wake up, the sooner you get to sleep in your own bed." A sad, half-smile of longing ghosted across Sam's face. "Not that we were doing much sleeping there."

Sam stroked his thumb across Kurt's lips.

"C'mon, Kermie."

He started singing softly under his breath, the words meant only for Kurt if he could hear them.

_Is it okay if I call you mine?_

_Just for a time_

_And I will be just fine_

_If I know that you know that I'm_

_Wanting , needing your love._

His throat tightened and the last line came out in a choked whisper. Sam brushed his lips over Kurt's then wearily dropped his head to Kurt's cheek. So tired. The steady beat of Kurt's heart beneath his hand and his quiet, even breaths started lulling Sam to sleep.

"You better not croak on me."

Sam tried to laugh through his tears. And failed. He broke down and gave in to the emotions that had been battering him, crying against Kurt's shoulder until he was shaking from exhaustion. He was drifting off when he felt the comfortable intimacy of fingers stroking through his hair, familiar and reassuring.

"…ribbit…" Kurt murmured drowsily as he turned to nuzzle Sam's neck.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Sorry, I know this chapter is kind of an abrupt change from the last one. I just couldn't get any of the transition scenes from that one to this one to work. Also, it's pretty short. But after this one, I promise there will be a Kurt/Sam chapter so they can reconcile.

Part Thirteen

Burt shifted uncomfortably in his chair. After two weeks, Kurt was almost finished with his in-patient therapy. Burt, at the suggestion of Kurt's counselor, had been to a couple of solo sessions himself. This was their third session together. It wasn't going well.

Kurt sat directly across from him, red eyed and sniffling, hands folded on top of his crossed legs. Not looking at his dad. Burt Hummel wanted to grab Kurt's shoulders, shake some sense into him and ask what the hell he had been thinking. He'd expected to feel relieved that Kurt had survived. He hadn't been prepared to deal with the anger that followed. He didn't hate Kurt. Didn't think he could ever hate him. But every time he thought about almost losing him, he was furious.

Burt had thought a lot about the therapist's suggestion, that he needed to let Kurt know how he felt without lashing out at him.

"You tried to take the most important thing in the world away from me."

"So did you, Dad."

It took a moment for Kurt's softly spoken words to sink in. Burt shook his head, genuinely puzzled. Sure, maybe he could have taken better care of himself but he hadn't planned on having a heart attack. It just happened. Kurt knew that.

"I didn't try to kill myself."

Kurt looked at him sharply. "You don't exercise. You don't eat well. If I didn't remind you, you wouldn't take your medicine." He became quiet. "I watch you killing yourself every day."

Burt fell silent, not knowing what to say to that. He glanced helplessly at Dr. Merrill. She gave him an encouraging nod. "You're doing fine. Keep going."

"It's my job to protect you. To make sure you got a safe place to come home to."

"You are my safe place."

Burt rubbed his eyes, fighting back tears. "What dad expects to bury his kid?"

He stood up and paced, finally locking his fists on the back of his chair and looking at Kurt directly. "You are 16. You should be at the mall shopping with Mercedes."

"Really?" Kurt crossed his arms tightly to his chest. Bitterness laced his words. "Did you think planning your funeral would be just another shopping spree for me? That I would splurge on a beautiful dark cherry casket with etched bronze trim and pale gold fleur de lis silk and not be affected by what it signifies? You'll be gone." Kurt's voice hardened, raw with emotion. "But don't worry, Dad, you'll look fabulous when leave me alone!" He choked back tears on the last word.

Burt reached out but Kurt pulled away, one finger held up in warning.

"Hey, you think if you were gone I wouldn't be alone, too?"

"You'll have Finn."

Burt threw the chair into the wall. Immediately, Dr. Merrill came from behind her desk and stood protectively by Kurt.

Burt stood over Kurt, jabbing a finger at him.

"Don't smart mouth me, kiddo. You got problems? Then grow a pair and deal with them. You got a good life. I gave you a great life. Who the hell are you to piss on that and throw it away?"

He stormed out, slamming the door.

Dr. Merrill picked up the chair, set it across from Kurt and sat down, watching his reaction.

"You okay, Kurt?"

Kurt, wide eyed and shaken, nodded.

The doctor grabbed her notepad from the desk and flipped it back a couple of pages.

"Your dad's personality changes started after his heart attack?"

"Yes."

"Irritability, anger, short term memory loss. Withdrawn. His doctors explained those can be common side effects for heart patients?"

"Yes."

Dr. Merrill read through her notes before tossing them back onto her desk and fixing Kurt with a steady gaze.

"Your dad may never go back to being the dad you remember."

Kurt sniffled. "I know."

"You've already lost your mom and now it feels like you're losing your dad, too. It's okay to be angry. It's okay to grieve." Kurt brushed away the tears that threatened. "It's not okay to treat pills like they're hors d'oeuvres." Dr. Merrill's phone rang. She glanced at the text message that came through then flipped it shut and continued her session with Kurt.

"Have you talked to anyone about what's going on?"

"Sam."

"Anyone else?"

"No."

"Why not?" The therapist watched as Kurt suddenly occupied himself with smoothing the wrinkles from his pants leg. "What do you think would happen if you told someone? If you told Carole?" Kurt frowned and rubbed harder at a stubborn spot. "You think your dad would be embarrassed by how he's been acting?" Kurt paused, then nodded. "And you'd do anything to protect your dad."

Kurt shrugged, "I love him."

Dr. Merrill studied Kurt. "Okay. So, what's our plan?"

"I go home with Carole and Finn today."

"You're still good with that?" Kurt nodded. "And I'm going to make some phone calls and get some things in place for you and your dad." She put a hand on Kurt's knee. "Kurt?"

"Hm?"

"It will get better." Dr. Merrill smiled. "And you have a visitor."

"Mercedes?" Kurt assumed she would be bringing his clothes so he could leave.

"Not unless Mercedes is a blonde quarterback for McKinley High."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Warning for sex and language.**

Part Fourteen

Kurt paused in the doorway to his room, watching the care Sam took to hang the garment bag he had brought with him just so. Then running a hand down the length, smoothing out the wrinkles. If only Sam would take as much care with his own clothes, Kurt thought ruefully. The quarterback was dressed in gray sweats with a blue t-shirt that, Kurt had to admit, did wonderful things for the color of Sam's eyes. Not to mention the wonderful things the tight fabric did for his abs.

Sam looked around the room idly. It wasn't at all what he had expected. Instead of a typical hospital room, Kurt's room in the Psych wing looked more like a college dorm. The floor was lightly carpeted and the furniture, though limited, looked comfortable. His quick look around had him coming back full circle to face the door. And Kurt. Sam's face lit up as Kurt entered.

"Hey."

"Sam."

Their reunion was unexpectedly awkward, neither one quite knowing how to proceed. Kurt had tried to commit suicide. Sam's dad had tried to kill him. They weren't subjects easily brought up in casual conversation. So, initially, they said nothing, satisfied with exchanging nervous smiles.

Kurt opened the garment bag, noting the blue and brown horizontally striped shirt, somewhat tame but serviceable blue jeans and hat.

Sam licked his lips, nervously hoping the clothes he had picked out for Kurt would be okay. The hat had been an impulsive, last minute addition. Privately, Sam referred to it as the Peter Pan hat and, though he would never tell Kurt, he thought it made him look adorable.

Sam bit back a smile. It was the hat Kurt had worn when he came to see him in the shower.

Kurt absently nodded his approval, his thoughts lingering on what had just happened with his dad. Still, he managed a half-hearted smile for Sam's efforts.

"They're fine. Thank you."

Kurt kissed Sam. It was a modest kiss by any standard. A quick, chaste brush of lips that wasn't at all what Sam wanted. But, judging from Kurt's red rimmed eyes and quiet snuffling, maybe it was what his boyfriend needed at the moment. So instead of tossing Kurt on the bed, stripping his clothes off and fucking him senseless until he cried out Sam's name as he came, Sam held back and took his cue from Kurt's mood.

Sam nodded towards the garment bag. "There's more."

Kurt felt along the bottom of the bag. He pulled out the expected shoes and socks. Sam shook his head. Puzzled, Kurt reached in again and pulled out a jar of moisturizer. He let out a soft "oh" of surprise, genuinely touched by Sam's gift.

"Crème de la Mer!" Sam's blue eyes sparkled, loving Kurt's reaction. "How could you possibly afford it?"

Sam chuckled, pleased with himself. "I have my ways." He drew Kurt into his arms as he glanced at the moisturizer and then back at Kurt mischievously. "Just remember, it goes on your face not the walls, Kermie."

A guilty flush crept into Kurt's face. He had forgotten about his temper tantrum that had resulted in a trashed room and broken vanity. He stepped out of Sam's arms, eyes downcast, embarrassed. He walked to the coffee table and set the Crème de la Mer down, putting a few feet between him and Sam in the process.

Sam kicked himself for being such an idiot. Obviously, Kurt was upset. And instead of being there for him, Sam had opened his oversized mouth and put his equally oversized foot in it.

By now, Sam had learned the details of Kurt's suicide attempt from Finn. He'd had two weeks to think about it and realize he had literally been a breath away from losing his beautiful Kermit eyed boy. The thought brought a tightness to his chest. Still, he would do his best to be supportive.

"Do you want to talk about…taking the pills?" And there it was, one of the elephants in the room that they really couldn't avoid any longer.

Kurt fidgeted with the lid of the moisturizer, brow creased in thought.

"Do you hate me?"

Sam almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. Almost. Because Kurt definitely was not laughing. He held himself stiffly, shoulders squared as if he had to physically brace himself for Sam's answer. There was a questioning light in Kurt's eyes and Sam's jaw tightened in anger. What the hell had Burt Hummel said in that counseling session that left his son so withdrawn and uneasy?

"What?"

Kurt dared a quick glance over to Sam before focusing again on the jar.

"Do you-hate-me?"

He gave Sam a second to answer. And then another. After a long moment of silence, Kurt looked up and saw Sam crossing the room to the door. Kurt watched him leave, heart aching.

But when Sam reached the door, he closed it, locked it and pulled the blinds down. He turned around, back to the door, and stood there watching the emotions play across Kurt's face. God, he was beautiful. And sexy. And so fucking vulnerable at this moment. He never wanted to see Kurt looking at him like that again.

"Do I hate you?" Sam repeated slowly as if turning the words over in his mind and giving them careful consideration. He sauntered across the room. His fingers tugged playfully at the zipper of his hoodie as he held Kurt's gaze. Finally, he slid the zipper down and took his time shrugging out of his sweatshirt. He leaned against a chair, making a show of stretching his long, muscular legs out as he kicked off his shoes and socks. Desire sparked in Kurt's eyes now and Sam smiled to himself. Much better.

Sam dug into his pocket, pulled out his favorite cinnamon anise lip balm and uncapped it. Kurt's face brightened as soon as the scent reached him. Licorice. Dark and earthy. Wordlessly, Sam applied the balm in a slow, lazy circle around his lips. The cinnamon left a pleasant tingle against his mouth. From the way Kurt's eyes were quickly shading from blue to green, Sam had no doubt that Kurt remembered how warm the cinnamon had been on his skin, too.

He closed the space between them in a heartbeat, suddenly close enough to see Kurt's pulse quicken in the hollow of his throat.

"You look good enough to eat."

Sam's mouth fastened on that quick flutter, sucking the skin hard. Tomorrow the bruise would be vivid against the pale skin of Kurt's throat, evidence to everyone that Sam had claimed him. The thought thrilled him. And from the desperate, happy whimpers Kurt was making, he was all for Sam's efforts.

Sam pulled back, grinning at Kurt's flushed cheeks. Locking his hands behind his back, Sam leaned over and bit into the sash of Kurt's kimono robe. A tug. Another. Sam used his teeth to pull the sash free and drop it to the floor. He hooked his thumbs in the shoulders of the kimono and trailed them down the sleeves of Kurt's silk pajamas, disrobing him. Mindful of the beautiful garment and Kurt's sensibilities, he took a moment to hang it up. Kurt acknowledged his thoughtfulness with a grateful smile.

Sam attacked Kurt's top. Kurt's eyes widened as Sam's mouth closed over the first button and, using his tongue and lips, unfastened it. When he went for the second, Kurt groaned, pressing his chest against Sam's mouth and the furtive little movements that tongue was making.

Kurt's fingers wound into Sam's hair, anxious to touch him but, eyes sparkling, Sam wriggled out of his reach. He mimicked Kurt's head shake and finger wag to warn Kurt against touching him. Sam's lips danced across the third button and soon it was undone as well. He stepped back, surveying his work. The dark blue silk of Kurt's shirt had slid to his shoulders, effectively trapping his arms to his sides. The front now fell in a wide vee to frame Kurt's pale chest just beneath his hardening nipples. Sam's tongue lapped over one of the tight little nubs before he sucked it between his teeth. Kurt's initial gasp quickly became a throaty moan. Perfect.

"Why, Sam Evans, I do believe you're trying to seduce me with your masculine wiles." Kurt glanced sidelong at Sam, playing at being coy.

"Trying?" Sam reached between them to palm Kurt's erection. "More like succeeding."

Kurt rolled his hips and rubbed seductively against Sam's hand. "You're going to besmirch my maidenly virtue."

Sam snorted. "Besmirch?"

"I could scream." Kurt teased.

"I'll be disappointed if you don't." Sam answered huskily. He lowered his head and kissed Kurt, lips pressing, coercing until Kurt's mouth opened to his and Sam was soon making his own happy little noises as their tongues met.

Reluctantly, Sam broke away. He grabbed the kimono sash from the floor and circled behind Kurt. He grabbed Kurt's wrists firmly-the way he liked-pulled them back and used the sash to tie his hands together securely. Kurt gasped when Sam jerked on the sash, making sure it was tight enough to hold.

Kurt stretched his fingers behind him and successfully snagged and loosened the tie to Sam's sweatpants. Sam stepped out of his reach. "Uh-uh! Hands to yourself." He leaned close to Kurt's ear. "Or I'll bend you over my knee and do something wicked."

"Oo, promise?"

Sam smacked Kurt's ass and was rewarded with a lovely, boyish wiggle as Kurt scooted away. He circled back around so that he was standing in front of Kurt again. Sam glanced down at his untied sweatpants and then at Kurt's pajama bottoms.

"I like the way you think, Kermie."

Sam ghosted his mouth from Kurt's throat, down his bared chest and stopped just above the tie to Kurt's pants. He stayed there for a long moment, his breath warm against the thin silk covering Kurt's skin. Kurt rocked his hips forward. Sam accepted the invitation, took the tie in his teeth and pulled it loose in one move. As he had done with the robe, Sam hooked his thumbs into Kurt's waistband and pulled the pajamas and underwear down to his thighs. Once there, Sam deftly retied the pajamas, binding Kurt's legs together so that he was helpless to move.

Kurt watched Sam expectantly, desperately wanting his boyfriend to wrap those soft, full lips around his now exposed penis. It wouldn't happen. Not yet. They had both agreed to get tested for a year before having oral sex. Just to be safe. Kurt chewed his lip, frustrated. Stupid, stupid agreement. He had been so lost in thought, he hadn't realized Sam was staring at him, licking his lips as if his thoughts had mirrored Kurt's. Kurt's erection grew harder.

Damn, Sam really wanted to deep throat Kurt. Instead, he gave the younger boy a lazy smile, knowing that Kurt was aroused by Sam watching him. And Kurt's hard on was like a little cheerleader encouraging his own erection.

"I think we're missing something." Sam walked over to the coffee table and picked up the jar of Crème de la Mer. "This'll work." Kurt looked horrified.

"Don't. You. Dare."

Sam turned Kurt away so he couldn't see what he was doing. Kurt strained to look over his shoulder, hoping and praying that Sam wasn't serious. He heard the lid of the jar being unscrewed.

"Samuel Elijah Evans! That is a $200 jar of my favorite moisturizer!"

"Should be good stuff then."

Sam's voice was right behind him and Kurt startled at how close he suddenly was. Kurt felt Sam's chest against his back. One hand gripped Kurt's hip. The other slid around front.

"Crème de la Mer is not meant to be frivolously squandered as personal lubrica-oh!"

Kurt's head snapped back against Sam's shoulder as the blonde teen's fist closed around him, slickly pumping his shaft then palming across the head. Kurt struggled to breathe. He was bucking against Sam's hand in front and Sam's cock was grinding against his ass from behind.

"Sam-!"

Sam eased his hand down to cup Kurt's balls as he kissed the back of his neck. "You were saying?"

"We're going to need a bigger jar." Kurt murmured blissfully, eyes heavy lidded, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I think I just added thirty minutes to your moisturizing routine."

Sam continued to knead Kurt as he licked and sucked his neck. Kurt was whimpering again, soft, strangled sounds.

"…please…"

Sam chuckled against Kurt's skin.

"That's not the magic word, Kermie."

Kurt huffed, annoyed. "I will not-!"

Sam shrugged. "Suit yourself." His fist closed around Kurt again and he squeezed, released, then squeezed again.

"…no…" Kurt wriggled against Sam's body, moaning.

Sam palmed slow circles across Kurt's head and Kurt quickly gave in.

"Ribbit, you sick fu-ow!"

Sam silenced Kurt's complaint with a quick nip to the soft spot just behind Kurt's ear. He immediately eased the pain with quick licks across the area that soon had Kurt making noises of pleasure.

"Of all the boys at McKinley…" Kurt muttered, "…I get the perv with the frog kink."

Sam stopped and pulled his hands away. "Oh, dude, you did not just go there." Sam smirked. "I'm not the only one in this room with a kink or two."

"You wouldn't!"

Kurt stepped back but, with his legs bound, he tripped and started to fall. Immediately, Sam reached out to catch him but instead Kurt took him down, too. They both ended up in a tangled, laughing heap on the floor. Kurt squealed as Sam grabbed both of Kurt's calves and pulled him towards his lap.

"Not the ankles! Not the ankles!" Kurt giggled as he tried to squirm out of Sam's grasp. Sam quickly caught one of Kurt's flailing feet and, holding it firmly with both hands in spite of Kurt's best efforts to free himself, began sucking and kissing his way from the delicate arch of Kurt's foot to the oh so sensitive skin of his inner ankle. It wasn't long before Kurt stopped resisting. With a contented sigh, he flopped back loosely on the carpeting, eyes closed, breath quickening and gave himself over to the little shivers of ecstasy Sam's tongue was coaxing from him.

Sam removed the slippers from Kurt's feet and unceremoniously tossed them over his shoulder. His fingers moved up inside the silk pajama legs, stroking a path from Kurt's ankles to the curve of his calves and finally coming to rest on his knees. His fingers brushed the back of Kurt's knees. Kurt's hips rose off the floor at the sensation. They hadn't been together all that long, really, but Sam had been quick to learn the hot spots on Kurt's body.

Sam rocked back on his heels and quickly stripped off his t-shirt. He loved toying with Kurt but not being inside him, fucking him was making Sam a little crazy. He undid the tie to Kurt's pajamas and soon had him naked from the waist down. He thought about taking the top off, too, but he kind of liked the way rumpled, half-dressed Kurt looked stretched out beneath him. Sam straddled Kurt's waist. He reached around and untied the kimono sash, which may have been a mistake.

Hands and legs free, Kurt quickly took advantage and wrestled Sam onto his back. He forced Sam's hands over his head and held them there, tight against the floor as his mouth worked against Sam's. Sam made a half-hearted attempt to break free. Kurt quickly scampered onto his chest, used his knees to pin Sam's shoulders to the floor and leaned in to suck on Sam's earlobe. Kurt moved on until he found the spot he wanted . His mouth fastened on the base of Sam's neck where it curved into his shoulder and Kurt bit down, sure his teeth would leave an impression.

"God-Kermie-fuck that feels good!"

Sam jerked up hard and pulled his hands free from Kurt's grip. One hand fisted in Kurt's hair, the other cupped the back of his neck, holding him in place, silently encouraging Kurt as he continued to bite and tongue him.

Kurt's hands slid to Sam's back. He froze. And suddenly the second elephant in the room was there, front and center, demanding attention. Kurt blinked back the tears that suddenly threatened as his fingers felt the scars crisscrossing Sam's back. He wrapped his arms around Sam's neck, buried his face into his boyfriend's chest and cried.

Sam hugged Kurt to him. He made soft, shushing sounds as he stroked Kurt's hair. Sam tightened his hold on Kurt as he sat up, holding Kurt in his lap. After a few moments, he lifted Kurt's face to his. Sam's thumb wiped the tears from Kurt's cheeks.

"It's over now."

"But your dad-"

Sam's thumb pressed against Kurt's lips, silencing him. "It's over." He repeated more firmly. His thumb outlined the fullness of Kurt's lower lip before he leaned in for a soft kiss. "I'll tell you about it later. In the meantime-" Sam's lips twitched, amused, "-I've got another surprise for you."

Sam stood and drew Kurt to his feet. He guided Kurt's hands to his sweatpants and slid his thumbs under the waistband. Kurt's eyes flew open, his mouth dropping in surprise. Kurt worked his hands further in Sam's pants. Finally, he just grabbed Sam's waistband and yanked his sweatpants to the floor and Sam, obliging, stepped out of them and kicked the sweats out of the way.

Kurt had secretly fantasized about this moment but wasn't sure how Sam would react to his request. But now, here he was, shamelessly standing before Kurt in satin and lace underwear grinning like an idiot at the look on Kurt's face.

"I may be a perv with a frog kink, but I'm not the perv who spent $300 at xdress."

"Mm-hmm." Kurt agreed absently, distracted by Sam's cock straining against the light blue satin. He moved closer, rubbing against him. He gripped Sam's ass and pulled him closer.

Sam maneuvered them over to his hoodie. He reached into the pocket and pulled out three condoms. He fanned them out before Kurt. "Pick one. Or-" Sam wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "-we could just work through all three of them."

"Oh." Kurt's face fell when he saw the condom packets, suddenly realizing something.

Sam dug his nails into his palms, hiding his frustration. "Kermie, it's okay." He kissed Kurt again, letting his lips and tongue linger. "We don't have to do this." Another kiss. "It's okay to change your mind."

"I want to, it's just-"

Sam chewed his lip, concerned. "What?"

"I don't know if Crème de la Mer is compatible with latex condoms."

Sam bit his lip, trying to hold back a laugh. "Kurt, babe, I know you're high maintenance

but-" Sam broke off, giggling. "You really thought I would use a $200 cream for lube?" Sam doubled over laughing. "Dude, seriously?"

He walked over to the coffee table, grabbed a box then showed it to Kurt.

Pre-Seed Personal Lubricant.

"$19.95." He pulled a resistant, pouting Kurt into his arms. "And you're worth every penny." He scooped Kurt up and carried him to the bed. Kurt's lips twitched, trying not to smile. Sam tossed him lightly onto the mattress causing Kurt to giggle. Sam crawled over to him. He fixed Kurt with a mock serious look. "Don't make me tickle you."

Sam sat up and started to finish undressing. Kurt licked his lips, then reached out to stop Sam's hands. "Can you-leave them on?"

Sam broke into a grin as he tugged the satin panty down to his thighs, experimenting with how much he would be able to move. Satisfied, he eyed Kurt. "Good?"

Kurt laid back on the bed and played footsie with Sam's satin covered muscles, sliding his toes under the lace trim of the lingerie. "Mmmm…" Kurt was practically purring. He watched Sam with hungry, eager eyes as he opened the condom and put it on. Kurt grabbed the lube and rubbed some more on himself and slicked up Sam's fingers. He hooked a leg over Sam's shoulder and the other around his waist.

Sam worked his fingers into Kurt, loosening him up. He was surprised by how quickly Kurt relaxed and opened up to him. He had worked up to three fingers comfortably when he drew out. There was one more thing he needed to take care of.

"Kurt, look at me."

Kurt's eyes fluttered open, puzzled at first, then concerned that something's wrong when Sam didn't call him Kermie.

Sam shifted until he was in position, then teased his head into Kurt's ass.

"I."

He waited a moment, pulled out, then pushed in again, just a little more as Kurt arched to meet him.

"Don't."

Out. In. Deeper.

"Hate."

He withdrew and then in one smooth, slick stroke he's in all the way, shuddering as Kurt's muscles tightened around his cock, milking him.

"You." Sam gasped.

To Kurt, they're the sweetest words in the world.

"…imzadi…"

Sam blinked in surprise. He searched Kurt's face, not sure what he's looking for in the luminous green eyes that meet his. Kurt's never quoted Star Trek before. He's never called him anything other than Sam.

I_mzadi. _

_Beloved._

Kurt watched Sam's reaction, biting his lips nervously. Maybe he pronounced it wrong? Maybe it doesn't mean what he remembered it to mean? Maybe Sam hated it?

"…kermie…"

And then Sam was moving again, filling Kurt, both of them falling into a familiar, urgent rhythm as if they'd never been apart. Kurt shifted his hips slightly and there, Sam was hitting the sweet spot with every stroke. Kurt didn't think it could get any better than this when Sam fisted his cock. Kurt thought he would pass out from the pleasure. But Sam had one more surprise. He managed to get Kurt's foot in his other hand and he pressed a thumb into the arch as he entered Kurt. It sent Kurt over the edge.

"-Sam-!"

And that was all Kurt managed to gasp out before he stiffened, hands clenching the sheets. So close. Sam pumped into him again and suddenly Kurt's screaming into the pillow as Sam rides him, driving into him, hips rolling frantically as he comes with an almost violent shudder that rocks his whole body. Sam's a heartbeat behind him. One, two strokes more and he's there, coming as hard as Kurt had.

Several minutes later, they're in the shower, cleaning up and making small talk. Kurt asks about Sarah and what Rachel's dads are like. Sam talks about the music the Glee club is working on. Really, the words don't matter. They're finding their way back to each other, reconnecting .

"When does your dad's trial start?"

Kurt felt Sam's shoulders tense as he rinsed the soap from his skin.

"My dad isn't going to trial."

Sam sat down on the shower's safety bench and leaned his head against the tile, watching Kurt watching him, green eyes curious and compassionate. He laughed then. Tight. Strangled. As if the sound could just as easily have been a cry.

"He died."

And suddenly Kurt was just there, a warm, solid presence straddling his lap, stroking wet bangs out of his eyes, trailing kisses across his face. He leaned into Kurt's embrace. Tears mixed with the shower spray and Kurt kissed both from Sam's cheeks. After a few moments, it was easier to go on.

"He drowned."

Kurt pulled back, incredulous. "When? How?"

Sam shrugged. "Two days later, in his cell."

"He drowned in his jail cell?"

"Det. Pulaski called it delayed drowning. Somehow fluids built up in his lungs." Sam repeated numbly. "My dad drowned." He laughed again, that heartbreaking, half-choked sound.

Kurt kissed him, then wrapped Sam in his arms and rocked him. They stayed that way for a few moments more until a knock at Kurt's door interrupted them. And then Finn's voice came from the other side.

"Kurt? It's Finn! Are you okay?" Knocking again, louder, insistent. "Kurt!"

"Oh, shit!" Kurt giggled as he hopped out of the shower and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist.

Sam heard Kurt's voice, then Finn's and then Kurt was back in the bathroom, eyes bright with humor, as he urged Sam to hurry up and get dressed.

Sam pulled Kurt back for a quick kiss. Then he quickly toweled off and came back to the main room to get dressed. He saw Finn's shadow outside the door, waiting.

They both shrugged quickly into their clothes, trying to be quiet about it. Kurt checked himself then gave Sam a quick once over.

"Ready?"

Sam nodded. Kurt opened his door and let Finn in. Finn took one look at Sam and frowned.

"What are you doing here?"

"Seeing how many balls I can fit in my mouth." Sam deadpanned. He winked at Kurt and then brushed past Finn without another word of explanation.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: "People Will Say We're In Love"**-from the musical "Oklahoma" (I changed the order of the lyrics slightly).

"**Let's Go Crazy"**-by Prince.

This was written before the "RHPS" episode. So, my Becky is a kinder, gentler, non-knife wielding version. And I'm keeping her.

Last chapter! Again, thank you so much to everyone who's followed the story, taking the time to read and review. A special thank you to **Demented Symphony, Fallen** **Upon, Matchbook Jealousy** and **Jason Dragon64** for all of the reviews! And to **My Teenage Dream** and **Bookworm51485**, thank you for your constructive criticism. The story came out much better because of it!

Finally, I'd like to recommend a few other amazing fics that deserve attention:

**Survival of the Fittest by Ella Greggs**-Best. Sue. Ever. Seriously, go read it!

**All Those Who Wander Are Lost by angst cupcake.** Glee and zombies. And very cute drunk!Kurt/Sam sex. What more could you want?

**Masquerade by myownwayx.** I never cared for Will/Kurt but this fic changed my mind. Beautifully written, hooked me on the first page.

* * *

Part Fifteen

FAB.

Kurt stared, horrified, at the rhinestone letters adorning his locker. Dozens of bold, rainbow flashes of light erupted across the surface of the metal door. More rhinestones, sequins and glitter glue framed the word, outlining it against the newly painted black enamel background. When he finally dared to approach the monstrosity, Sue Sylvester intercepted him. He was grateful for the reprieve from having to-shudder-actually touch his locker.

She tapped his locker once. Kurt noticed that front and center, eye level above the FAB, in permanent gold magic marker, was the Cheerios practice schedule.

"Fifty push ups for every practice you miss. So far, you owe me 150. And if you think that's going to be hard? Try extracting an impacted wisdom tooth with a pocketknife while traveling across a desert under a hail of sniper fire. That's hard. So if I were you, fancyface, I'd put some serious thought into making sure my oh, so fashionable keester is parked front and center Saturday."

She leaned in. "Because between you and me? I don't see these pathetic lasagna noodles you call arms being able to kiss the floor 200 times." Spotting another victim, she stalked off to corner her prey.

Kurt shook his head. Some things-some people-would never change. It was a comforting thought, actually. He glanced at the Cheerios schedule again then realized that others had signed his locker, too. Some were barely readable scrawls. Others, sweeping signatures with heart dotted i's or more quickly jotted notes wishing him well. He recognized most of the Gleeks but, surprisingly, realized that many of the names were people he didn't know. And one-he almost laughed out loud-Brittany-had left a glittery kiss. He hoped she hadn't actually put the glitter glue on her lips.

"Do you like it?"

Kurt turned to see Becky beaming at him, obviously pleased with her work. He didn't have the heart to tell her that Liberace on steroids wasn't exactly the creme de la creme of haute couture he envisioned for himself.

"I love it. Thank you."

"Kurt?"

"Hm?"

"I would be really sad if you died." Kurt's carefully neutral smile faltered. Becky held his gaze with her own. "So don't die, okay?"

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Becky giggled and jabbed her little finger firmly towards Kurt. "Pinky swear!"

Kurt hooked his finger around hers and shook it. "Pinky swear."

Satisfied, Becky skipped down the hallway.

"Kurt."

Kurt flinched, startled by his dad's voice behind him. He turned, unconsciously keeping the metal locker door between him and his father. The movement wasn't lost on Burt. The way Kurt hunched his shoulders, the quick, nervous glances from his locker to see where Burt was standing-how close he was standing. It hurt to see the uncertainty-geez, the fear-in his son's eyes and to know he was the cause. He knew he should say something, anything, but he was never a man of many words. The few that came to mind-"I'm sorry"-"I didn't mean to."-"It'll never happen again."-just didn't seem to fit.

He wanted to promise Kurt that he wasn't going to leave him. More than that, he wanted to hear Kurt make that promise to him.

"Hey."

Kurt glanced up from the sheet music he had been gathering. His dad was awkwardly holding his little finger out.

"I expect you to be around when I retire. Someone's gotta keep Finn and Carole from packing me off to Boca Raton."

Kurt heard the familiar gruffness in his dad's voice, but his throat tightened when he saw the also familiar love in Burt Hummel's eyes. Tentatively, he wrapped his finger around his dad's.

"And I expect you to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. In a tux. And tails."

"No top hat.", Burt grumbled.

Kurt sighed dramatically as if making a great sacrifice. "Fine, Dad. No top hat." He smiled slyly, "Well, not for you anyway."

They shook pinkies, a silent promise that things would get better.

* * *

The minute Kurt stepped into the choir room, Rachel flung herself into his arms and hugged him within an inch of his life. He had barely recovered from her enthusiastic welcome when Finn picked him up in a bear hug. Kurt desperately thumped on his arms to be let down. The rest of the Gleeks welcomed him back just as warmly. Even Santana's "Idiot." was said with affection. Mr. Schue gave him a long look before giving Kurt a quick, emotional hug.

Sam was the only one missing. But when he arrived, everyone noticed. The bright pink sweater was garishly attention getting on its own. The larger than life, green Kermit the Frog face on the front transformed the garment from mere fashion faux pas to a nausea inducing assault on the senses. Kurt noted with some satisfaction that even Rachel looked appalled .

And yet, Sam strutted in wearing it as if it were a perfectly tailored Armani suit. He took the empty seat next to Kurt, beaming.

"I saved it for a special occasion-your first day back."

"I see."

Sam eyed Kurt, amused. "It's not bothering you is it?"

"Not at all."

Sam frowned. Kurt really wasn't reacting to the sweater . "Why not?"

"Because I realized something, Sam."

A smug grin broke across Sam's face. "You're crazy in love with me?"

Kurt patted Sam's knee and smiled indulgently.

"If I'm Kermit, that would make you Miss Piggy." Kurt cast a critical eye at Sam's perfectly toned body. "And it looks like little piggy has been in the Cool Ranch Doritos again." Sam's face fell. He ran a palm over his smoothly muscled abdomen. Kurt let him think about it for a minute before he leaned over to whisper, "Ain't payback a bitch?" He winked. "Gotcha." Kurt slid his hand into Sam's.

"Okay." Mr. Schue clapped his hands together once. "Everyone take your seats. I know you've all been understandably distracted the last few weeks. So, let's refocus and get back to where we left off. Sam will be singing a song Quinn picked. Sam, you're up."

Kurt caught the look that passed between Quinn and Sam. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I'm not going to like this am I?"

"Nope." Sam was grinning as he pulled a stool over and sat directly in front of Kurt. Sam nodded to Brad that he was ready.

_Don't sigh and gaze at me._

_Don't please my folks too much._

_Don't laugh at my jokes too much._

_People will say we're in love._

Kurt felt the heat rush to his cheeks. He glanced over at Quinn who gave him a friendly wink. Kurt shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Sam, however, was enjoying the hell out of this song. And, Kurt admitted, Sam had a lovely upper register to his voice.

_Let people say we're in love._

Sam finished to warm applause. His eyes sparkled as he held his hand out to Kurt, who took it and stood beside him. The rest of the Glee club knew they were a couple by now-or at least suspected as much-but Kurt and Sam had decided to make it official.

"Sam and I have an announcement to make."

Kurt looked happily at Sam. He opened his mouth to continue his prepared speech, and suddenly found himself swept off his feet, bent over backwards and being well and thoroughly kissed. After the initial shock, Kurt threw his arms around Sam's neck and embraced the moment.

Tina elbowed Mike sharply. "You never kiss me like that!"

"You're not a guy." Which earned him questioning looks from Puck and Santana.

Will cleared his throat loudly. Sam took the cue and stood a disheveled Kurt back on his feet. Kurt tugged his sweater down, smoothed his hair and eyed the room haughtily.

"Any questions?"

Kurt directed the question to everyone but looked pointedly at Finn. Rachel was also giving Finn "the look" until he sheepishly shook his head and slunk down in his chair.

* * *

Emma took a seat next to Will, eager to see Kurt's performance. The lights dimmed and Kurt appeared on stage, a dark silhouette against the backlight. An organ chord filled the room. Emma's eyes widened, "Oh, a hymn?"

Will frowned. "I'm-not sure."

_Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today to get through this thing called life._

A spotlight flared and Kurt snapped around smartly to face his audience. Will's mouth opened in surprise. This was no hymn. And the teenager with long bangs falling across his eyes, skin tight jeans and flamboyant frock coat made no pretense of being a choir boy. Will glanced around. Everyone seemed to mirror his reaction. Except Artie. Artie was grinning as Kurt strutted across the stage, commanding attention.

Kurt Hummel singing Prince.

Will shook his head, amused. Well, he had said he wanted them to try something new. As he listened to the lyrics and watched Kurt's energetic performance, he realized just how well Artie had done in choosing this song.

_'Cause in this life _

_Things are much harder than in the afterworld_

_In this life_

_You're on your own._

Kurt danced his way across the stage from Artie on electric guitar to Finn on the drums behind him.

_And if de-elevator tries to bring you down_

_Go crazy - punch a higher floor._

And then he came off the stage to mingle with the rest of the Glee club. He pulled Rachel to her feet, planted both of his hands on her hips and playfully coaxed her into gyrating with him.

_If you don't like the world you're living in_

_Take a look around you_

_At least you got friends._

Next, he pulled Mercedes to her feet and she joined him in the vocals.

_Are we gonna let de-elevator_

_Bring us down_

_Oh, no Let's Go!_

He spotted Puck sitting in back, arms crossed, trying very hard not to be noticed. No such luck. Kurt motioned him forward with his finger. Puck rolled his eyes. But Quinn, Santana and Brittany, caught up in the music, soon had him up on his feet, too.

_We're all excited_

_But we don't know why_

_Maybe it's 'cause_

_We're all gonna die._

Mike didn't need an invitation. He quickly grabbed Tina and was dancing with her in the aisle. Kurt laughed, nodding his approval. He nudged them both towards the stage.

_And when we do_

_What's it all for?_

_You better live now_

_Before the grim reaper comes knocking on your door._

It was only by chance that Kurt was singing those lyrics when he came to the last Glee member. Sam. A look passed between them. Kurt grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him to his feet. By now, the entire Glee club was on the stage, singing, dancing and laughing.

_Tell me, are we gonna let de-elevator bring us down?_

_Oh, no let's go!_

Will's chest tightened with emotion. His kids were back. _All_ of his kids were back and he was going to make damn sure that they made it to Nationals.

* * *

Sometime in the early morning hours, Det. Pulaski finished the last of his paperwork, finally closing the Hummel case as unfounded. He shut down the computer, turned off the lights and went home to his husband.


End file.
